Ladies Can Be Heroes
by An Impatient Pierce Fan
Summary: What if the snake in the road that spooks Coram's horse came just a little too early? Yes, this is another Alanna goes to the convent story. See how all those pivotal moments play out when Thom is in Corus, and Alanna is stuck in the City of the Gods. Will Thom take Alanna's place amongst the knights, or are things a little more complicated? There'll be a romance, main ship TBD
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Been reading some Alanna convent fics recently, and I take issue with a lot of them on several different points. I have decided to write my own. This will not get nearly as much focus as the Tris piece I am writing, but since the plot for this is already written, it shouldn't take as much for me. Mostly, I am just writing this out so I can stop losing sleep over it at night, and I thought someone else out there might enjoy it as well._

 _That being said, I am probably not going to bother with a beta on this one. If it gets too atrocious, let me know!_

 _All characters, places, and events belong to Tamora Pierce, I am just colorfully re-imaging them._

* * *

The foursome made their way from Fief Trebond in quiet succession. The twins had switched places, and Maude was keeping her mouth shut, still trying to piece together the visions she had seen in the fire. Poor Coram further resigned himself with each step. He was taking a weakling to Corus, and there was nothing he could do about it.

The man-at-arms was so caught up in his own wallowing that he did not see the snake in the road until it was too late. His large gelding reared, leaving to Coram to cling on or be thrown. Without hesitation, Alanna clambered down from Chubby and ran to grab the gelding's reins. Luckily for her, she had always been quick, so she managed to avoid the wild hooves of the frantic horse and pull down on the reins with all the strength her tiny frame could manage. The mount responded to the sudden pressure by calming down.

"Thanks, lad. Mayhap, we'll make a knight o' ye, yet." Coram had not thought Thom had any act of bravery in him.

"Alanna, are you alright?" Thom flew to his sister's side, quite the sight for a boy in riding skirts.

"By the Black God!" Coram's outburst meant that Thom missed the murderous look in his twin's violet eyes. His concern had given them away. "Ye thought ye could switch on me, did ye?!"

"Maude agreed to it." The boy pointed accusingly at the healing woman.

Alanna only shook her head at Thom. This was not the way it was supposed to go. She needed Coram by himself, and Thom far away before she tried to convince the man. She knew this would have gone differently, if Thom could have just kept his mouth shut a little longer.

"The witch would!"Coram was unswayed by Thom's psuedo-argument.

"I'll thank you to keep me out of this." Maude spoke indignantly from her own mount.

"Ye woulda just let the girl go to the palace, and me none the wiser?"

"I saw things in the fire." Coram made the Sign against evil, making Maude roll her eyes. "I cannot explain them, but if the twins are meant to go this route, then I did not intend to get in their way."

"I don't care if the two were meant t' be dancing' bears; it's not t' happen on my watch!"

"You better let us switch or else!" Thom's voice gave even Alanna a chill.

"Or else what?" The large man leaned down towards the twins menacingly. Thom and Coram had never gotten along, but the boys threat had put the older man on alert.

"I can make you see things for the next ten years…" Thom quietly inspected his nails, as if they were discussing the weather. "You know I can."

Alanna was usually the first to lose her temper, but Thom was the one you really had to watch out for. She might be violent, but he was conniving. Part of her hoped this threat would work, Coram liked magic even less than she did. But even as the man-at-arms paled, Alanna knew that her brother had pulled the wrong card.

"Do it, Thom, and I'll leave ye t' fend yerself faster than you can say cherry tart! Ye think going to the palace is bad, I'd like t' see ye go it alone!"

"Please Coram! You know Thom won't be a credit to you." She spared an apologetic look for her brother, but he just shrugged. Thom never would have agreed to try the switch, if he thought he would enjoy being a knight. "I can be a knight, a good one!"

"Better t' take a coward than be caught lying t' their majesties. My mind's made up!" Alanna knew that face. They had lost. "Now, I suggest ye switch clothes, 'less ye want t' show up in skirts, boy."

Alanna shot a pleading look to Maude, but the old healer just shook her head. She had been willing to play along, but she was still too unsure about what she had seen to press the issue. If the twins had failed to convince Coram, she would not stick her neck out any farther.

"You'll regret this someday, Coram Smythesson!" Alanna felt bad as soon as she said it. She liked Coram, and, much as she hated his decision, she shouldn't begrudge him doing what he saw as the right.

"Probably, I will, lass. Could be real soon, but today I can only do what I ought."

When they finally parted ways at the crossroads, Alanna shed tears in earnest. Thom had the decency to ignore it; after all, Alanna was the only person in the entire world he loved, but even he knew she cried as much for losing her chance at knighthood, and the freedom it provided, as she did for losing him.

Alanna and Maude sat for a moment, watching the two men ride away.

"Come child, the City of the Gods awaits you."

"What about the things you saw in the fire?"

"No one ever said you had to be a knight to accomplish great things."


	2. First Impressions

_A/N: The flow of this story may feel a little weird, but it will be a series of full chapters with letters in between to fill in the gaps. The thought of writing out years of learning to sew, dance, serve tea (even with Alanna's wit) makes me cringe. We will spend some time at the important junctures, so please don't feel like this will be a bunch of one shots._

 _Disclaimer: Small excerpts may be taken directly from the Song of the Lioness Series, all these as well as characters, places and plots are the sole property of Tamora Pierce and are not intended for self-profit._

* * *

Thom's arrival in Corus was later in the day that expected; in fact, the sun was about to set. Coram was ready to strangle the youth by the time they entered the city proper, just for the number of times they had to stop so that Thom could stretch. Market Day was ending, so the already ruffled man-at-arms found himself fighting against foot traffic to reach the palace gates. It was exactly why he had wanted to arrive earlier.

Outsider though he may have been, Thom did not look the part. Instead of gawking at the large, unknown city, he hunkered down into Chubby's saddle, making the horse even more nervous than his riding skills usually warranted. Thom didn't really like people to begin with, so throngs of them surrounding him did not pique his interest.

"Keep an eye to your saddlebags." Coram knew Thom was probably sulking and not paying attention to his surroundings. "There are some here as would steal their own mother's teeth!"

Thom noticed the tall man near him that Coram seemed to be indicating.

"Who, me?" The soon-to-be- page knew mischief when he saw it, and this man embodied it. Coram's snort of derision only warranted a wink from the hazel-eyed man.

If that man did honest work, Thom would eat his belt.

Coram grew taller the closer they got to the City Gate, but Thom just sunk in deeper. As the shadow of the Gate passed over him so did a shiver. This felt like the beginning of a nightmare.

* * *

The room was positively dismal. Alanna didn't remember the Daughters of the Goddess taking vows of poverty, but the bare walls and harshly functional furniture made her question this. Surely, the Head Daughter did not look as if she was given to frivolity. Of course, when dealing with noble girls day in and day out, it probably helped not to show any display of wealth. If your necklace wasn't up to snuff, they might snub you.

"What do you mean, these are the only clothes you brought?" High Daughter Satinder possessed one of those voices that is more frightening when whispering than yelling.

"There was a misunderstanding with my bags, and I have come here with my brother's clothes." It wasn't even a lie; well, not a _total_ lie, anyway. Currently, Alanna wore some comfortable breeches with a loose linen shirt.

"And your hair? Was that a misunderstanding as well?"

Maude had braided back the sides, but there was no covering up the fact that Alanna had cut her hair to not even brush her shoulder. At the time, she had been sure her audience was going to be with the training master in Corus. It had even fooled Coram, for a moment.

"I had hoped to start a new trend amongst the ladies." It was the wrong time to smile, but she couldn't help it.

The High Daughter settled back in her chair with a smile of her own. The expression accentuated the wrinkles that lined her face making it alarming rather than inviting. It felt more like a predatory animal bearing its teeth.

"A sense of humor, I see; that is good."

Alanna gulped involuntarily.

"I've seen dozens of girls like you pass through those doors. You believe this place isn't for you, and maybe, you are right. Perhaps some day, you will decide to take vows to the Goddess and spend your days defending her temple, but that choice is not yours today. Today your choices are: stay here and abide by our rules or return home."

Satinder did not miss how Alanna's lip curved upwards at her last words.

"Yes, returning home is an option. You are not a hostage here." The High Daughter held her hand up before Alanna could voice her opinion. "But know this, if you leave here, you lose all chance of making something of yourself. If your father even accepts you back into his household, you will never be welcome in polite society. You will be the girl who shunned her peers, a shackle to weigh down your father and brother."

Alanna, stubborn as ever, did not falter. There were other options. "I don't need my father or brother to support me."

"No, of course not. You could run away to fend for yourself at the ripe old age of ten. At best, you might find a respectable place to work and live the rest of your life in poverty. At worst, well there are two options really, die of starvation or sell your body to survive." Alanna's jaw dropped at the woman's blunt speech. Children her age were not supposed to know about such things. "You seem like the starve to death type to me, but then you have probably never truly been hungry. So tell me, do you wish to test your mettle or will you stay here and receive training that can afford you opportunities in life that most women only dream of."

It hurt having all of her final hopes dashed against the rocks by this woman. There had to be something else she could do with her life; a good marriage or temple confinement could not be her only options. Unfortunately, one thing was clear to her now.

"I will stay." She informed the floor more than anyone else.

"What was that?" The smug grin grated against Alanna's already tightly strung nerves.

Her teeth never unclenched as she responded, but she raised to her eyes to look directly into the steel blue ones shining in triumph behind the desk. "I will stay at the convent, High Daughter."

"Glad to know you can see reason. I expect your companion will send proper clothes when she returns to Fief Trebond, but for now, it matters not as you will be in a uniform during most of your time here. You hair is not to be cut again until it attains a proper length for a girl of your rank. What you do with it once you leave this convent is your affair. You will be with us six years, and during that time, you will abide by our rules."

"Yes, High Daughter." Alanna's jaw ached.

The head of the convent had already returned her attention to the papers on her desk. "Mariona will show you to your room; she will be assigned to you during your time here. Please change before meeting for dinner."

She turned to see Mariona waiting at the door. Alanna had not even heard her enter. The maid was a plain girl who looked to be about twice Alanna's age. Hopefully, the two could get along.

"Remember, Alanna," the High Daughter called back her charge's attention. "The Goddess is watching you."

Alanna just shook her head as she went to join Mariona. The idea that the Great Mother Goddess cared at all about her comings and goings was preposterous. "Then, I hope She doesn't get too bored."

As they made their way through the halls, her new maid pointed out significant places, but the redhead quickly realized that the City of Gods was much bigger than it had first seemed. She also realized she was desperately lost.

A uniform was already laying on the only bed of her room when she arrived. The tiny quarters was about as well decorated as the High Daughter's office, but it did, at least, have a window that looked out over the mountains in which they were settled. A single bed also meant she had the room to herself. There would be one place for her to escape the prattling.

"I'll come collect you when it is time for supper." Mariona was already bowing her way out.

"I imagine the other girls will be getting ready to leave soon as well, correct?"

"Yes, milady." Alanna huffed at the title but ignored it.

"I can just follow them. No need to come back."

"As you say." Another curtsy and Alanna was blessedly alone.

The outfit that awaited her was a simple underdress with a brown sideless surcoat. It was a little old-fashioned, but Alanna was not going to complain. If nothing else, this meant she could avoid corsets for a while longer. She washed her face in the basin that was still warm and changed her clothes before going outside to wait.

Sure enough, girls started trickling of the dormitory rooms around her. No doubt many of them had taken more time with their appearance than she had. Most of them wore outfits similar to hers, though a couple of the older girls wore dresses that included the rib crushers.

"Get into a fight with some shears, new girl?" The speaker looked a couple years older than Alanna and might have been pretty, if not for the sneer on her face.

"Aye, and I lost, too. Of course, mine will grow back, not sure if anything can be done about that nose of yours." Alanna pointed to the other girl's face with an expression of concern.

"How dare you, you little guttersnipe…" The girl was red face and covering up her nose.

Had it been Thom or another boy, Alanna probably would have just hit her, but after having just left the presence of the icy High Daughter, she had little desire to return after getting in a fight the first day.

"Delia!" A tall blonde walked between the two of them. "Is that anyway for a lady to speak?"

"Did you hear what she said to me?" The words were muffled by the hand still covering her nose.

"I am not defending her words, but I do believe you started that little bout of nastiness."

After a very unladylike grunt, Delia stalked off, presumably in the direction of the dining hall.

"That was Delia of Eldorne, and I am Cythera of Elden. You are new." It was a silly statement, but Alanna was feeling grateful for her interference.

"Alanna of Trebond."

"You could have let it go you know. Delia has a nasty temper." Cythera studied her with intelligent but soft blue eyes..

"Insanity runs in my family, so…" She shrugged rather than try to explain further.

"Well, Alanna, welcome to the City of the Gods."

"Thanks…" It was not gratitude that colored her voice, but Cythera was already walking down the hall.

* * *

Thom looked in the mirror at his page's uniform. The color was atrocious, an eye sore really. The scarlet clashed with his hair, and the tailor had picked out one so large it practically swallowed him whole. Did the man even know his job? At least all the boys would be wearing one, that way he could blend in. If he could survive the next eight years, maybe he could find a way to learn magic after becoming a knight.

Coram had abandoned him as soon as they got to the room, so Thom stepped out into the corridor by himself. He knew people were whispering around him, so he just stuck out his chin. Duke Gareth had mentioned that someone would sponsor him, but he wasn't sure he wanted someone to.

Someone grabbed him from behind while he was lost in thought. When the larger hand maneuvered him around, Thom found himself face-to-face with a boy maybe four years his senior with straw like hair and teeth that stuck out at odd angles.

"Who's this?" The redhead boy cringed as errant spittle hit his cheek. "Probably some back country boy who _thinks_ he's a noble."

"How dare you!" Thom spoke up before anyone else could. "My house has been in the Book of Gold for at least two centuries."

"Oh ho, well, then good sir, let me greet you properly." The taller boy made as if to bow, but headbutted Thom instead. The blow knocked the new page into the wall behind him, where he slid down. Alanna would have gotten back up. In fact, she probably would have lashed back at the older, stronger boy, but Thom knew that was a good way to get hit again. He stayed down.

"What is this?"

Thom didn't even look up as the new boy silenced the page who hit him. It was obvious the one who had just entered the area held some sort of power over the rest of the boys. When he requested a recap of the scene, the response was immediate. Thom took this time to stand up and brush himself off.

When the prince (Thom figured it out when the other pages kept referring to him as "Highness") dismissed Ralon, the purple-eyed youth realized this was not the end of it. The bully's glare would have been more than enough indication.

"You have good taste in enemies, even if you do make them your first day, Fire-Hair."

Thom bowed just enough as would be proper before crossing his arms in front of him and looking back at the taller boy. Just because he didn't enjoy being beaten up didn't mean he would go around cowering to everyone. It was a matter of picking your battles.

"My sister always said insanity runs in the family, your Highness."

"And what family would that be?" The prince had a confident smile that Thom envied. No one would have hit him into a wall.

"Thom of Trebond."

"Jonathan of Conté. "The blue-eyed youth looked puzzled. "I don't believe I have seen your family at court."

"My father prefers the solitude of his own study." _Even to the company of children,_ Thom added internally.

"And what about you? Do you prefer your own fief?"

"The palace hasn't made the best of first impressions."

The prince's clear laughter rang through the hall with those closest to him joining in. The redhead chafed at the laughter; he had not meant it to be funny.

"You are too right. Hopefully, we can remedy that. Come meet the others."

A line of introductions started after the prince made way. Thom forgot most of the names as soon as they were said.

"Now, who will sponsor Thom?" Several of the older boys raised their hands.

"I'd rather just figure it out on my own, actually." After Ralon's welcome, Thom decided it would be best not to put his faith in the boys here.

"Nonsense, it's tradition!" The prince clapped the smaller boy on the shoulder. "You'll find we love tradition here!"

"I think Gary will do nicely."

The large, brown-eyed boy the prince indicated stepped forward with an easy smile. He didn't look as though he were plotting anything, but Thom eyed him warily. Better to keep his guard up.

Of course, by the end of the night, Thom could barely keep his eyes open, much less worry about the intentions of his companion. Gary had made sure that he made it back to his room, from which Coram was still suspiciously absent.

"You alright to make it to bed?" The tall page sounded genuinely worried, but Thom waved him off.

"Welcome to the palace, young Trebond!"

Thom shut the door in his cheery face. _And this was only the first day..._

* * *

 _A/N: Yes, I realize it actually a little further to the City of Gods than it is to Corus, but I took a little creative liberties because I liked the back and forth more! If you can't handle some looseness with the timeline of events, you should probably stop reading now_


	3. Resignation

_A/N: This may feel a little Thom heavy at first; sorry about that! His part of the story is already outlined for me, so it is a lot easier to fill in, and as I discussed, Alanna's first year is kind of boring._

* * *

It took two days before Thom was stomping around his room gathering his things. He could only use his left arm to pack as his right was too sore to move. The other boys joked about the pace, as if they had grown accustomed to the deathmarch, but they must all be masochists. He certainly had no intention of staying.

"What're ye doin', boy?" Coram's low voice sounded behind the surprised squire. It was the first time Thom had seen the man-at-arms since they arrived. The separation had felt intentional.

Thom rounded on the man in a temper of his own. "What does it look like? I'm packing!"

"And just where do ye think ye're going?"

"Home, and then to the convent with Alanna." He knew his voice sounded petulant, but he didn't care.

"The first born son becomes a knight; it's the way of the realm." The words were an angry rumble from the older man.

"They are trying to kill us, and I, for one, have no intention of dying young. I will become a great mage and serve the realm in that way. We both know it is a much better use of my talents."

The two stood glaring at each other, but it was Coram who looked away first. The overly large man shook his head in frustration before turning towards the door to leave the boy alone. He had known the twin would be a disappointment, but he'd thought Thom would last a little longer than this. Maybe long enough to get kicked out, instead.

Hand on the door, he spoke one last time. "Alanna would of toughed it out."

"I am not Alanna." Thom shot back at the man.

"More's the pity." And with that, he was gone.

Thom threw a boot at his pack so hard the entire thing toppled over, his belongings spilling across the floor. He stood, staring at the mess. Coram was right, of course. Thom loved his sister and knew that she would never have allowed this to beat her. His twin didn't back down from anything.

The classes were enjoyable. He hadn't let the Masters know quite how much he already knew, better to let them think that he was learning new concepts than be straddled with more work early on, but weapons and riding training would be the death of him. After two days, he ached to his very toes. In fact, even as mad as he was, Thom could not convince himself to bend over and begin repacking the bag, tired as he was. It would be there in the morning.

Unfortunately, when he awoke, it wasn't there. Someone had put away all of his stuff while he slept soundly. A short note was ominously stuck to his door with a dagger.

 _I'll not have ye disgrace the Trebond name yet. - Coram_

After a short incantation he had learned from Maude, purple fire turned the paper to ash, burning away a little of Thom's frustration and leaving a scorch mark on the door. His control wasn't that good. He could brave the journey back home by himself, but he knew, scholar though he was, Thom stood little chance of convincing his father to send him for training in the City of Gods if he abandoned his page training in the first week.

Was it worth trying to get kicked out by the palace? He couldn't remember a page who had been sent home from training, except those that didn't make it through the Chamber. Thom knew enough of the stories to realize he did not want to fail his Ordeal. Maybe he could fake an injury, but with healers like Baird roaming the palace, it would have to be pretty serious to make him ineligible for service. The boy wasn't sure he wanted to suffer through that.

Thus, Thom spent the next few weeks devising plans to leave, staunchly denying what he knew in his heart; he would stick this out.

* * *

There were not so many noble girls in training that they segregated groups by years. Girls about to leave for Corus sat in class with first years like Alanna, though they received individualized lessons. This did mean that everyone knew everyone, and it hadn't taken her two weeks to keep everyone straight, even if she kept getting lost in the warren of the City of Gods.

Since her arrival, Alanna had learned that the uniforms of the early years were intended to keep girls from comparing rank and wealth, but if the Daughters actually believed that was working, Alanna questioned their hold on reality. Trebond was an old house, but it was neither a rich nor a powerful one.

Alanna ranked low on the power scale. Fortunately, this meant that most of the other girls ignored her, which left her with only two problems: the Daughters of the Goddess and Delia of Eldorne.

The former looked upon her with poorly hidden distaste as she continued to quietly defy their instructions. Alanna had conceded that she needed to stay at the convent, but that did not mean she would be turned into some useless bauble meant to adorn a gentleman's arm.

Delia, it turned out, held grudges with impressive tenacity and took every opportunity to deride the new trainee. Really, it was a good thing Alanna had never put much stock in the importance of appearance because if Delia was to be believed, mirrors should be shattering as Alanna passed by.

"Lady Alanna, could you, at least, pretend to pay attention?" A sharp rap on the desk brought her attention to mathematics, or as Alanna referred to it, household sums. Perhaps, she should have thought it progressive that they believed women would have some say in the upkeep of fief finances.

"And how many times has Daughter Thea spoken to you about your posture?"

"Let's see, I've been here two weeks, so approximately 14, if you include a lecture and meal per day."

"That tongue of yours will see you a spinster." Daughter Clemence shook her head, genuinely saddened by the prospect, despite the fact that she was pledged to remain alone the rest of her life as well. "Report to laundry after last bell. If we cannot train you to be a noblewoman, you will make a fine maid by the end of your time her."

The snickers of those around her died away quickly as Daughter Clemence made her way back to the front. Alanna had chosen a spot towards the back, near a window, as she did in all of her classes.

"I do not understand why you provoke them. You are certainly capable of sitting up straight." Cythera of Elden was the exception to the noble hierarchy. She was neither exceptionally rich nor from a powerful family, but the other girls held her in high esteem. Of course, it probably helped that even at her young age, everyone could already tell she would be gorgeous.

"True, but it is my way of reminding them that I don't want to be here anymore than they want me to be."

"They only feel that way _because_ you do these things." The older girl sighed in exasperation.

"Yes, but _I_ feel that way no matter what."

Alanna wasn't quite sure if she and Cythera were friends, but the girl had not laughed when Alanna had confessed her desire to be a knight. The ashen blonde had proved herself to be levelheaded, a trait that was sorely missing at the convent. The redhead cherished their rational conversation about something other than fashion.

"You know, pages learn proper etiquette as well."

"But they get to do it carrying swords."

To be fair, Alanna did not know when pages actually received swords or if they got to carry them. Thom failed to mention any specifics in his first letter. It had been... pithy. A fact he blamed on overwhelming exhaustion.

Alanna had spent an entire day trying to pen a reply that did not sound as whiny as her twins, but when one's day consisted of an hour learning the correct curtsy for every rank foreign and domestic, writing an upbeat letter was difficult. Downtrodden as her brother sounded, Alanna did not want to rub salt in the wound of their circumstances.

"I would think hearing from your brother would have made it clear that we are not cut out to be knights. Look how hard it has been on him."

"That's just Thom." Alanna replied dismissively. Her brother would think anyone forcing him to fight or ride meant him harm.

She might not have laughed, but Cythera could not understand Alanna's desire to trade places with her twin. Then again Cythera had never been trained with a knife or bow as Alanna had. The poor girl didn't know what she was missing.

"Lady Cythera, did you wish to join your friend in laundry duty?"

"No, Daughter Clemence." The blonde spared a rueful look to Alanna from underneath her light eyelashes.

"Then, I suggest you return to what is in front of you. That problem will not solve itself."

"Yes, Daughter Clemence."

Her classmate was not one for open defiance. Despite First Daughter Satinder's assertion that Alanna was not the only girl to feel she didn't belong at the convent, it seemed to her most girls _wanted_ to live at court. She had struggled with that particular conversation since settling in.

At sixteen, she would be done with this place one way or the other. Now, she just had to spend some time thinking about her options. Hopeful as she had been that she would be in knight's training by now, she hadn't spent much time on other options. Prize wife just wasn't an acceptable one, if anyone would even consider her a prize.

She could run away as Satinder had mentioned, but the First Daughter had been all too right on that account. Even if Alanna waited until she was old enough to fend for herself, she couldn't _do_ anything. She could hardly be a maid in a noble house as Daughter Clemence suggested, when she had just given up her own house. Maybe she would find work as an seamstress with limited skills she would pick up at the convent, but in all likelihood, she would be forced to marry in order to stave off poverty. Better to not cut off ties with her family, if the end result would be the same.

The temple of the Great Mother did have warrior maidens who kept all men from trespassing on the sacred grounds. It would mean that Alanna would get to do weapons training. But it was as much as prison as the walls of the palace or her husband's lands. More so even, as the priestesses never left the temple.

It left one viable option, if she wanted to escape her fate. The young girl shivered involuntarily as the realization hit her again. She could become a mage. Noble female mages usually kept to the traditional roles, but they didn't _have_ could study and travel; some even held important positions in foreign courts, though she couldn't think of any in Tortall. But Thom was the mage, not her. She just wanted the predictable life of a knight, defending her country, protecting the weak. Could she fetter herself to magic to gain her life's freedom?

"Really, Lady Alanna, must I tie your back to the chair to force you to sit up straight?"

Oh well, it wasn't a decision she planned to make today, anyway.

"No, Daughter Clemence."

* * *

 _A/N: Reviews are the lifeblood of all fanfic writers. Help me live another day!_


	4. King of Thieves

_A/N: Sorry for the delay, guys. I used to write almost exclusively at work, but it has been so crazy, I haven't had time. Luckily for this fic (and unfortunately, for my other one), I have become a little obsessed with this again. Hopefully, content will be coming out much quicker._

 _Disclaimer: This story follows that of the Song of the Lioness series, any recognizable characters, setting, plots, or dialogue are not my property and not intended for personal gain... just wish fulfillment._

* * *

It had been three months since Thom had arrived at the palace. Coram had abandoned him after only two, just left one night without a word. Oh, he had made threats to leave, always trying to get Thom to practice more and read less, but the page never thought he'd actually do it.

Thom supposed he could have left when the blaggard man-at-arms had, but, besides the fact that he would have to make the four day trip by himself (his father would never send someone to gather the son meant to be a knight), he had finally resigned himself to this reality.

A knock at the door roused Thom from his nightly wallow.

"He wants to see you."

Thom rolled his eyes at Timmon, conversations with his Grace were rarely a good thing. He doubted the Duke wanted to wish him a happy birthday. Another year passing without celebration wasn't a new thing. To their father, Thom and Alanna's birthday was simply the anniversary of his wife's death; still, the reminder of his twin had made Thom miss his sister.

"By all means, lead the way." Sarcasm dripped from every word.

Thom had managed to avoid the Duke's study since the day of his arrival. Tonight, his luck must have run out. He did have to wonder what he had been caught doing though. Surely, reading texts on magic was not prohibited.

"Thom, come in. I'm writing your father on your progress. Is there anything you would like to me include to him?"

"No, your grace."

The older gentleman spared him a harsh look but did not press further.

"The report is… satisfactory." The pause felt poignant. "The Mithran priests are certainly impressed; it seems you pick up new ideas at a good pace. However, your training masters would like to see more effort. I suppose you are much like your father, in that regard."

Looking down at what he was writing, the duke missed Thom gritting his teeth. Sharp-tongued he might have been, but he was not fool enough to talk back to the man who meted out punishments.

"Make sure that you do not let your intellectual studies overshadow your physical ones. No knight was ever killed by a book."

For someone as intelligent as Duke Gareth, Thom found the man could say some of the most idiotic things. War strategy was hardly ever been divined while learning to fall off a horse.

"Still, you may go to the market tomorrow morning as a reward for your studiousness. In the future, you may also join the other boys there on Market Day. As it will be your first time, you may have one of the older boys accompany you, except for Alex, he has punishments to fulfill."

"Thank you, sir, but I would prefer to go alone."

The duke sighed. "I had heard that you were not getting along with the other boys, but I hoped you had found some friends. Isn't there anyone you would want to take with you?"

Thom wondered how the older man knew so much. No doubt his simpering son had tattled. Gary thought he was so funny with his little pranks; all the other pages seemed to admire the older boy, but Thom found him insufferable.

"It's not that, Your Grace. I have some family in the city," it was an outright lie, but it would keep this scene from replaying constantly, "so I would just as soon visit them on my own."

"Oh, I was not aware." The duke perked up at this news.

"A distant cousin but family is important."

"Yes, indeed. I understand completely. I shall finish my letter, make sure you write to your father as well when you have time."

It was a dismissal. Luckily, even if Duke Gareth decided to mention Thom's alleged family in the city, the boy remained confident that Lord Trebond would never spend enough time reading the note to actually notice.

* * *

The next morning, Thom found himself wandering the streets of Corus on his own. He had no real use for the market, with little money of his own, he planned to save it for books or potion ingredients, once he had studied up a bit. Actually, he had contemplated just using this time to study more in the library, but he had wanted to get out of the palace for a bit.

He stood staring at a sword; someday, he would need to think about such things for himself. They hadn't started learning the sword yet, but a decent weapon would be expected of a knight in training. The reluctant page shook his head at the idea of wasting money on a sword he never intended to use.

"So, it's the young sprout with the purple eyes. I was beginning to worry you had fallen into a well."

"Do we know each other?" Thom asked the older boy guardedly. Thom had to look up to see the youth's face, and although his accent was rough, Thom saw intelligence in those twinkling eyes.

"Not really." A smile spread across the tall one's face. "Your servingman made a not so complimentary comment towards me on your first day in town, but we haven't been formally introduced."

"Don't let it make you feel too special. He's been doing that to me for years."

Hearty laughter prompted a small smile from Thom; people didn't usually find him funny. "Then from one who's been slighted to another, I'm George Cooper, of the Lower City."

"Thom of Fief Trebond." George's grin gave the page the distinct impression he already knew that bit of information.

"Would you take a cool drink with me, as my guest, of course? I know just the spot a few roads down."

Thom hesitated. He generally avoided people wherever possible, but something about this one was different. He found himself nodding his head.

"A drink would be nice."

"Excellent."

The establishment was an old inn called 'The Dancing Dove'. The greeting they received impressed Thom. The old owner hopped to get an ale for George and lemonade for his guest. Whoever George was, he garnered quite a bit of respect, judging by the way that the entire room had resituated itself when he entered. Jon had the same effect on people, though he was much more haughty about it.

"You shouldn't be surprised by my looking you up."

Thom raised his eyebrows at the brunette across from him, taking a sip of his lemonade.

"There's something about you, and you being from the country, I thought you might could use a familiar face here in the city."

"I get along alright by myself." Thom retorted.

"So you do, in fact, I might notta known you were from the country, if you didn't have eyes like those. Not too many walking around here."

Thom's pupils narrowed. Even among those with the Gift, his eyes were unusual.

"When my instincts tell me something is important, I tend to listen. Saved me more than once in my line of work." One side of George's mouth curled into a half-smile around the word 'work'.

"And just what is it you do?" Thom's voice sounded interested, but his mind was elsewhere.

With his magical awareness, he reached out towards George. The twins shared many powers, but only Thom could read thoughts. He was intrigued to see what this quick mind had to offer. It felt just like reaching out physically, his magic just an extension of himself, like any of his limbs. Only when he went to touch George's presence, a sharp shock shot back at him. Thom yelped, almost falling out of his chair.

"Careful there lad, you'll find this is a dangerous place to be snooping around."

George's voice suddenly sounded wary, and had Thom been paying better attention, he would have seen the dangerous glint in the older boy's eyes.

"You've the Gift!" The exclamation was half accusation, half excitement.

"Aye, a handy thing indeed; it helps me see more clearly than most."

"Can you teach me to do that?" Usually, Thom didn't like to ask for help from other, save Alanna, but when it came to magic, he was willing to take learning from wherever he could. "I know that having magic is supposed to shield you from others, but your shield attacked me when I went to look."

His earnest desire to learn seemed to settle George. "Mayhap, I can. I figured you must have some of the Gift, seeing how many books you read."

"Not that it will do me much good while studying to be a knight. Wait, how do you know what I read?" It was Thom's turn to be cautious again.

"Truth to tell, I've been keeping up with you since that day." Thom's hand tightened around his tankard. "My Gift helps me see clearer than most, and I knew I had to meet you."

This made a kind of sense to Thom. It wasn't a power he had, but he could see how you wouldn't want to ignore it. In a way, it was a compliment, really; it meat Thom would be someone someday.

"I can be a good friend to have, even for a knight."

"I don't really plan to be a knight; at least, not in the traditional sense." Thom smirked

"Planning to quit?" George sounded surprised, even though he knew the boy wasn't particularly good, at least, not at fighting.

"No, I'll get my shield, then go to train as a made exceptions at the City of the Gods, you know… for those with enough power."

The redhead's face was nothing short of smug as he voiced his plan for the first time. He could hardly tell the duke, or the other boys. He hadn't even told Alanna, as all his letters went through the duke's hands first. He didn't plan to spend his days swinging swords at people when he could be so much more useful with his magic. Most of the boys seemed to think that was cheating, but Thom just saw it as good strategy.

"And you've enough?"

Thom gave a derisive laugh in response.

"And why would you want to help me? You're obviously someone important around here."

"Caught that, did ya? Powerful and intelligent… I'm what you call the King of Thieves, or sometimes just The Rogue as I rule over the Court of the Rogue. You could say I'm in charge of all those round here who live by their wits." He winked at the small boy, who had obviously caught on to his meaning. "Mastery don't last long round last king was… dethroned not six months back. Who knows when some young buck will do for me what I did for him? Better to have friends for that day. Till then, why look a gift thief in the mouth? I can be a good friend to those who keep faith with me."

The thief watched this information sink into the lad's head, waiting for some response. It was a lot to take in, but none of Thom's thoughts were visible on that small face. Finally, the youth seemed to make a decision, though his smile didn't quite reach those lilac eyes.

"Why indeed? Especially a Gifted one. I'd imagine that's handy in your line of... work."

George chuckled despite himself. "Not many your age, even those bound to the Rogue would have taken that without comment. Well met, Thom of Trebond." The Rogue offered his hand to the youngster, who took it.

"I think this could be the start of an important relationship, George Cooper."

When Thom finally left for the palace, the King of the Thieves watched him go with a troubled smile. He wasn't sure what he had expected from the lad, but that wasn't it.

* * *

 _A/N: READ, REVIEW, FUEL MY DRIVE TO WRITE MORE!_


	5. Ralon of Malven

_A/N: This chapter will mark the first large deviation from canon. As I can explained before, we will keep most of the same timeline (with small change that I know of already), but things will go a little differently for our heroine and her brother. This chapter is all Thom, but it is very important to the story development, so bear with me!_

 _I love the reviews, but I also love replying to them. If you have a FF account, make sure to log in so I can thank you or maybe even answer questions!_

* * *

Thom had not forgotten Ralon of Malven, and Ralon had not forgotten him. Being that Thom had just started training as a page while Ralon would be a squire soon, their meetings were infrequent, but when they did, the older boy made it clear their first encounter was not forgiven. Then again, Thom got the feeling the bigger boy just enjoyed being nasty, and Thom, being a loner, was an easy target.

Summer meant afternoon riding and swimming. Thom's old pony usually left him as one of the last one's after the return ride, but that day, Thom was still taking care of his tack when the insipid boy arrived. It was the thud of gear outside his stall that brought the redhead's attention to Ralon.

"Curry my horse and hang up my gear; I'm headed in for a wash."

"You've got to be joking." His voice held no amusement.

"Do it!" The almost squire shoved Thom into his own pony before stalking off.

Stefan found the boy staring at the tack.

"Are you gonna do it?" The stablehand had been asked to keep tabs on the young man; George would want to know.

"Of course not!" Indignation turned Thom's face as red as his hair.

"Think about it, lad: I'll have to report it to his Grace, you know."

Thom wasn't stupid; he understood what the hostler meant. The horse wouldn't be looked after, and Ralon would know who to blame. The older boy wasn't one to let something like this go, but Thom wasn't about to clean up someone else's mess, especially if it meant he would be late to supper.

"I guess Malven should have thought about that before he threw his stuff on the ground…"

The hostler just shook his head as the tyke stalked off. Stefan knew enough of the goings on in the palace to realize that Thom was much better at the thinking arts than the fighting. To him, this felt less like bravery and more like stupidity.

* * *

True to form, the boys went swimming again a few days later. Ralon's punishment for leaving his poor horse in such a state, while a great source of enjoyment for the prince and his lackeys, did not exclude him from being able to join them. It didn't overly concern Thom.

Malven was a bully, and like most bullies, he kept his nastiness hidden around those who could do something about it. He wouldn't pick a fight while the older pages were around. For once, Thom planned to stay with the others as much as possible.

With that in mind, Thom floated leisurely in the water, just far enough away to avoid any rough housing, but close enough that Ralon would be heard if he started a row. At times like this, he often wondered how his sister would have fared in training. Surely, she would not have been able to keep her gender a secret with all these boys. One person deciding to throw her in the water would have been all it took.

Lost in his thoughts, head half underwater, he never heard Ralon swim up beside him. Two strong arms shoved him under the water; his mouth opened in shock but quickly closed as water filled his lungs, instead of air. His struggle began in earnest, but, try as he might, the hands on his shoulders might as well have been made of iron for all the good he did moving them.

He had not gotten a full breath before he went under, and the page knew he was quickly running through the air he did have with all his thrashing, not that it mattered. His last conscious thought was that, at least, he wouldn't have to go through training anymore.

One of the boys must have found him because he reawoke to someone pounding furiously on his back. He waved whoever it was off weakly as he coughed up half the lake onto its grassy shore. It took a moment before he could breath properly.

Raoul's unnaturally happy face swam in front of Thom waterlogged eye's when he opened them. "Trebond, thank the gods! We thought you were a goner for sure."

"You and me both." A couple of the pages laughed at his comment. They had a habit of thinking he was being funny at the strangest times.

"What happened?" The prince wanted to know, his voice as demanding as ever. "One minute, you were swimming along; the next, we saw you face down in the water."

All the pages had gathered around Thom on the shore. It wasn't every day someone almost drowned in training. Loses a limb or faints of heat exhaustion, maybe, but not many drownings. From the corner of his eye, Thom spotted Ralon, shaking his head slowly… deliberately. The younger boy caught his meaning.

"I got caught on something in the water and couldn't get loose." If the older boys noticed the anger in Thom's voice as he spoke, they didn't question it. Nor did anyone mention the fact that he glared at Ralon as he gave the explanation. Pages took pride seriously.

"Alright, he'll live." Raoul pronounced.

"Thank you for that expert diagnosis, though my back might disagree with you." His back throbbed from where the abnormally large boy had tried to beat the water out of him.

The hulk of a boy just shrugged unapologetically. "Better hurting than dead."

"That would depend on how badly you hurt." He accepted the hand up from Prince Jonathan, wincing at the fresh pain moving caused in his shoulders and back.

"Let's get you back to the palace. Water might not be your favorite element right now, but a hot bath will help."

Thom grated at the prince's sudden familiarity, but he had underestimated Ralon once. He would not do it again. If that meant riding back to the stable sandwiched between four older pages, he would suffer through it.

* * *

That night at supper, Thom served Sir Myles, as he had since arriving at Corus. _Almost_ dying did not excuse a page from dinner service. At least, the old fool was nice enough... for a drunkard. He was certainly the only scholastic teacher who had seen through Thom's initial charade of ignorance. Sir Myles was easier on the after hours assignments than most, so it didn't really matter.

As he carried over another tray, Malven passed by, leaning in to whisper. "This isn't over, snot."

The older page pinched Thom so hard he dropped his serving tray. The redhead could feel Duke Gareth's eyes boring into the back of him without having to look up. He even thought he heard a couple of the other boys snicker, but he couldn't see who.

"Everyone slips." Myles' attempt at comfort fell flat, but Thom murmured his thanks as was expected.

"Another glass, sir?"

"No thank you, Thom. I feel a little tired; in fact, would you be so kind as to escort me to my room when the king rises?"

The request wasn't unusual. When the knight had consumed enough to see doubles, he often asked the page for help. To Thom, this meant the occasional treat and less time at the pages' supper. Tonight, however, the instructor had hardly touched his wine.

"Of course, Sir Myles."

Thom was right; once they were up in Sir Myles' quarters, the older man handed him an orange and asked him to sit down before pouring himself a brandy.

"Young Ralon is picking on you, isn't he?"

"I'm not sure what you are talking about." Thom had long since given up on adults helping him, but he didn't try to keep the sardonic lilt from his reply.

"Don't play coy with me, Thom."

"Perhaps, it would have been better to say: I don't know what you expect me to say in this situation."

"The truth would be just fine. I see much of what goes on in the palace. It's one reason I drink so much, and I see Ralon bullying you, when you are alone or with the younger pages."

Thom remained silent, but the shrug of his shoulder seemed to ask 'so what?'

"Don't you think the other boys would help you out, if you just asked?"

Thom's lip quirked in amusement, but he stopped short of outright laughing. "I'm sure one of them would be happy to save the day. Gods know they have no more love of Ralon than I do, but I need to do this on my own."

The older man shook his head. "I truly love our code of chivalry. We are taught that noblemen are meant to take everything and say nothing. Noblemen must stand alone."

Thom sighed as the man started up again. Truth be told, the page agreed with Myles for the most part. The code was archaic and impossibly contradictory, but he failed to see the point of endlessly debating on it, if nothing was going to change.

"It isn't that at all." Actually, part of him really didn't want to give the older boys the satisfaction of needing their help, but that wasn't really the same thing. "I just know Ralon's type. If I asked one of the fearsome four to take care of him for me, it would only make Ralon turn to more discreet forms of bullying."

Myles watched Thom thoughtfully. The redhead wasn't really sure why he was sharing so much, but it felt good to say it outloud. The knight has happened upon a day when Thom had done quite a bit of thinking himself on the subject. He was still firming up his plan.

"You'll have to fight him in the end."

"See, that is precisely the problem with everyone around here. For all that you are training knights, you act as if brawns were the only means of survival; most of us have other resources. I would have thought a scholar like yourself would have realized as much."

Myles blinked awkwardly at the youth who had just scolded him. "I'm not sure I follow. You don't plan on fighting him?"

"Of course not, I wouldn't stand a chance!" Thom's rueful tone gave way to his signature smirk. "I am just saying you need not worry about it; I find my own way to fight battles, and I rarely lose. But I had better be going, or I will miss all of supper."

Myles didn't even mutter a farewell, lost in thought at the boy's words.

* * *

Trouble came the next evening in the library. Thom was studying, alone as usual, when Malven found him.

"What are you doing here?" Thom asked in mock surprise. "I didn't even know you could read."

The older boy punched him squarely in the stomach before he had time to react. Luckily, Ralon must have wanted this lesson to last because he stepped back to tower over his small prey. Once Thom finally had his breath back, he straightened up with harsh laughter.

"What's so funny, Trebond?" The boy's crooked teeth showed as he leered down.

"You really need a new pastime, Malven." He managed to sound calm, even those his voice still wheezed from the earlier hit. "I am tired of this one."

"Oh really, and what if I told you _I_ wasn't?"

Thom inspected his fingernails, casually turning his palm over until it faced up. Purple fire gathered there, stopping when it had grown to the size of a fist. George had proved useful after all. It was odd that he always seemed to have more healing books than anything else, especially considering that the Rogue didn't heal, but the burgeoning mage had found what he needed.

"I would say you have misjudged your relative power here." His words were chilling.

"You wouldn't." Despite his words, Ralon's voice shook, and he took an involuntary step back. "You're not allowed to use magic against other students."

"Too right." Thom still didn't look up at the quaking boy, knowing how unnerving his causal display of magic would be. "But then, you're not allowed to beat up students either, so this is just self-defense."

He moved his gaze up finally, holding his burning palm out towards the boy, careful to keep it away from the shelves.

"Don't you touch me!" The soon-to-be squire's voice broke, and Thom's cold smile did nothing to ease the dread that had furrowed Ralon's brow.

"See, that's the difference between me and you, Malven. You do things because you know you can, whereas I show restraint. But do not make the mistake of thinking that my self-control is the same as inability."

He slowly fed a piece of paper from his pocket into the flame. Thom knew the show was overly dramatic, but Malven's eyes followed every speck of ash as it hit the library floor. The older boy had one hand on the shelf beside him, either as support or in preparation to run; it wasn't clear.

"Should you ever attack me again, I will defend myself by any means necessary. If I so much as think something _might_ be your fault, I will retaliate. Even if we get dragged before the duke, I can say under a truth spell my actions were due to a serious threat. Can you say the same?"

Thom didn't expect an answer, but the way that Ralon's knees were shaking was just too enjoyable not to string out for a bit longer.

"Now, Malven, are we all clear, or do I need to… explain this further?" The fireball expanded to emphasis his point.

"No, Thom, we are clear."

"Very good!" He closed his fist around the flame, extinguishing it with one hand, and clapped Ralon on the shoulder with his other. The boy gave a satisfying jump at his touch. "Now run along, Malven. I still have studying to do."

He turned his back on Ralon before the youth had time to leave. It was a power play, really, but Thom had to know how seriously his magic was being taken. If Ralon attacked him now, he would actually have to do something to the boy.

No attack came. In fact, the bully's exit was so quick, Thom could hear book pages fluttering in the wind behind him. Once he was sure he was alone, the younger boy plopped down in chair with a triumphant grin, wiping his own sweat from his forehead. Maintaining the hastily learned spell had taken quite a bit out of him, but it had been worth all the effort.

No doubt Ralon had been a bully for most of his life, but Thom had gotten rid of full grown adults who were a nuisance to him. A trumped up teenage boy didn't stand a chance. Duke Gareth's wrath for using magic as a weapon was the only thing that had stayed Thom hand thus far, but Ralon's beatings were a much more immediate issue. In the end, it had been well worth it.

The next few months saw a drastic change in the relationship between Thom and Ralon. The older youth avoided the redhead like some disease. The younger one didn't necessarily seek Ralon out, but he did find opportunities to remind him of their arrangement.

When the former bully got too big for his breeches, it was Thom that out him back in his place. He never hurt the boy, just subtle things like purples flamed candles in his rooms, or, Thom's favorite, imaginary maggots in his suppertime meal when Malven tried to take a rare dessert from another page.

The other pages noticed the difference in Ralon, but no one would have guessed it was due to Thom's intervention. The general consensus was that one of the older pages must have finally beat good sense into him. The wannabe mage chafed at this misplaced gratitude, but if the others knew it was him, he would have to stop his magical coercion of good behavior on Ralon. It was a price he was willing to pay. This was the most fun he had had since coming to the palace.

One afternoon, the older pages practiced jousting while the younger pages practiced getting up to a canter and then stopping on command. It was tedious. The other boys' horses responded well to their riders, but Thom's old pony probably couldn't even feel him hauling on the reins. Then again, the page remained convinced that the horse disliked him; it was possible Chubby refused to obey out of spite.

It was hot, and Thom's legs were already sore from all the riding. His already short temper was stretched to its limit.

"HALT!"

The newest pages all stopped their steeds in some semblance of a line but not Chubby. The pony went just far enough past the rest to stick out, then stopped so suddenly he almost threw Thom.

"You're lucky Stefan likes you." He whispered viciously to the mount. The hostler took a special interest in all horses, and Thom didn't want to offend George's man at the castle.

"TREBOND."

The boy's fist clenched around his reins as the instructor bellowed his name yet again.

"Congratulations, you just trampled a small child that ran into the street."

Above the snickers from the other boys, Thom could hear Ralon's voice.

"With such a small pony, the child will probably be fine." No one laughed at Ralon's joke, but Thom's cheeks reddened.

Apparently, it had been too long since he last put the bully in his place. Malven soon approached the pass, lance at the ready. His target was a dummy with a large target. If he hit the target, he could continue on unimpeded, but if he missed, it was a large sandbag to the back. Unfortunately, the almost squire was obnoxiously good, so he rarely missed. Thom could remedy that; it only required his mount to balk at just the right moment to throw his timing off. Malven didn't always need to know from where his misfortune came…

No one saw what spooked Malven's horse moments later. What they did see is the horse rear just as Malven met the target. Then, a few things happened simultaneously. His weight, fully on his stirrups as he surged to meet his target, caused the saddle to shift sideways as he was unbalanced. The sandbag came rushing around to hit him, knocking him completely over. However, his foot never left the stirrup, leaving him half beneath his horse when the beast came back down.

Thom didn't even realize he had dismounted until he was running over. The pages and instructors who had been closest circled around so quickly, he couldn't get through. He clawed at the outer circle, trying to get through.

"Get out of the way!" His voice sounded shrill. "Let me through, I can heal!"

He blindly shoved those in front of him, willing them away.

"Move!' A hole opened up before him, but just as he made the opening, a new body stepped in to stop him, taking him by the shoulders.

"You have to let me through." He pleaded with the prince who now stood in his way. "I can help him."

"No, you can't." Jonathan's voice was aggravatingly calm given the situation.

"I can! I am trained to heal!"

"Thom, you can't help him now. He's gone to the Black God."

The redhead sat down hard as those around them made the sign against evil.

* * *

Thom alone kept the vigil all night for Malven. He shed no tears, just stared blankly at the small casket that lay in the front of the chapel. It would take the boys parents sometime to arrive, but they had held a service for the pages. He was caught in the state of disbelief, still trying to figure out how exactly he felt about all this.

Sir Myles found him there the next morning, still staring.

"Mind if I sit lad?"

Thom looked up at the man; he knew he was supposed to answer, but he just looked back at the casket. The lack of an answer did not deter the knight, who settled down onto the bench.

"I think I know why you're here."

Thom kept his wide eyes forward. How could the old man have possibly guessed the part Thom had played? No one else seemed the least bit suspicious of him. In fact, the instructors and several of the pages had felt the need to try and console him.

"You do?" His voice sounded empty against the cold stone of the chapel.

"You harbored some hatred towards Ralon."

The page's heart stopped beating. He was found out! What would the punishment be?

"But you have to remember, you didn't kill Ralon…"

"I didn't?" Thom regretted the words as soon as he said them, but Myles was already laying a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Of course not! I know it can feel that way. We have all wished ill upon someone in our lives, but if that caused a death, there would be few of us left."

Thom studied his hands, turning over the knight's words in his head. Sir Myles had a point after all; the trick had been meant only to bruise Malven's ego, not kill him.

"I was not there, but I have heard several accounts now. It was an unfortunate moment where everything just went wrong at once. We train you boys what to do in situations like that, but the elements were against him. Not to speak ill of the dead, but Ralon's saddle was much too loose. Even an experienced knight would have had trouble staying seated if his saddle went sideways.

 _That's right,_ thought Thom. _If he'd been a better page, he wouldn't be dead now. They could hardly blame me for Ralon's carelessness._

The boy smiled up at the knight. "Thank you, Sir Myles. I understand what you are trying to say."

The older gentleman smiled back, glad his words had seemed to help Thom. He was a bright lad, for all he didn't seem to know how to get along with other people. It was too bad he would have to struggle through this without the help of friends. Guilt, even self-imposed guilt, was one of those difficult to shake; no doubt, Thom would have ups and downs with it over the next few weeks or even months.

"I am glad. If you ever need to talk about it more, my door is always open."

"No, you are right. I need to stop blaming myself for something that isn't my fault." The small redhead stood, dusting himself. "I'm off to breakfast. Thanks again."

He bowed to his teacher before going off in search of food. It had been too long since he ate. Myles just sat there. The change in his student had been so complete, so quickly. Part of the knight wanted to believe that it was just bravado to help cover up his true feelings but that didn't feel right. The boy sounded so sure, as if he really had just set aside the feelings that had kept him up the entire night. He had even smiled so brightly. Thom never smiled.

Myles continued to stare after the boy, wondering, not for the first time, what he had missed in his conversation with Thom.

* * *

 _A/N: I am probably a little overly pleased with this plot twist. I always hated the Ralon comeback arc, so I had no problem killing him. For the Thom haters out there, I can assure you that the next chapter will have plenty of Alanna. It is also where, I think, things will get **very** interesting. Hopefully, see you again soon!_


	6. Death Comes to the Palace (Again)

_A/N: You are going to be worried that I broke my promise to give you more Alanna, but stick with me here!_

 _Also, in case you were paying extra careful attention during Chapter 2, I kept referring to the head of the school as "High Daughter", but after reading the book again, I realized her title is actually "First Daughter" I shall amend that here. Still the same person..._

* * *

The Sweating Sickness hit Corus hard, and the Palace was by no means immune to its effect. Soon, the pages found that their masters expected them to do all sorts of jobs beneath their station. It was about this time that Thom decided his particular skills could be put to better use than latrine duty.

Usually, his declaration of being trained to heal would have warranted, at the very least, mild skepticism from Duke Baird, but given the fact that the sickness was quickly draining all of his available healers, the chief healer tested his power, then sent him to aid some of the more experienced palace healers.

At first, this meant that Thom did very little in the way of actual healing, but as more and more succumbed to the draining power of the illness, he received more and more responsibility. It was a happy time for the would have been sorcerer. Not only was he finally being recognized for his powers but he was also learning new things from the mages he worked with.

He still went to bed every night weary to the bone, but it was from an expenditure of his Gift rather than his muscles. It made a world of difference. Besides, young as he was, the mages were careful to not overtax him. Somedays, he was ordered not to do anything but rest, a luxury he had not enjoyed since coming to Corus. Of course, those days were fewer and farther between as the sickness progressed.

They had already entrusted him to monitor patients of his own (with strict instructions to fetch an adult for emergencies) when pages began to fall ill. They, naturally, fell to his lot. Part of the redhead preferred not to deal with his own. While he relished the way they deferred to him as he worked to save their lives, the other boys didn't treat him quite the same way they did the palace healers. There was appreciation but not that same reverence of power. None of them realized that, even at his age, he was stronger than most of the mages toiling around Corus.

Francis was so sick at the onset that all the mages told Thom to focus on the other patients; the page would not last the night. Everyone who healed knew by now this was no ordinary disease, but then, the twin was no ordinary mage. He knew he could beat this, and by doing so, prove to everyone how good he was.

When he was sure he would not be interrupted, the young mage pulled out the packet of vervain he had snagged. His hand shook slightly in anticipation. Thom had watched Maude do this once, and if the old hag could, it was well within his power. He threw the herb on to the fire and began chanting. He smiled as the flames before him turned purple. It was slower than he would have liked, but he was still drained from his previous healing.

"Dark Goddess, Great Mother, show me the way, open the gates to me, guide me, Mother of Mountains and Mares."

Thom's purple essence roared to life, causing his entire body to shudder violently. Raw energy slammed into the young mage, and he dropped with a cry. He remained on his hands and knees as the power coursed through his body, burning everywhere.

Had his been a physical battle, the page would have already given up. His pain tolerance had always been low, and he had no desire to push through it... but not today. Even as his teeth ground in pain, trying to control this power, he reminded himself that these were the forces he would need to control, if he wanted to be a great mage. This was his battlefield.

With sheer stubbornness, he shoved back at the power, forcing it to bend to his will. When the magic had finally subsided to a light glow beneath the surface of his skin, he made his way over to Francis. Thom grabbed the boy's hand and locked eyes with the deep brown pools of his fellow page. With this contact, he sank behind Francis into the depths.

"Francis…" The mage boy called out in the writhing darkness that engulfed him, trying to ignore the unholy shrieks that surrounded him. He knew without having to be told that he was near the underworld, and he needed to find Francis quickly.

The light from his body shone out like a beacon, illuminating the area in front of him until he could finally see the older page. Thom made to chase after him as he floated ever farther from his rescuer, but his path was blocked by a large hooded figure.

Thom stood face-to-face with Death. The boy's mouth open and closed, but he could find no words for the god before him. Unwilling to wait for verbal inspiration, the Dark God reached for him. Thom tried to put up a shield between himself and Death, but the hands did not even pause as they passed through his magical construct.

The Dark God held Thom by the shoulders, and the boy felt as if his soul was laid bare to whatever eyes lay hidden beneath that hood. The figure shook his head and released Thom, who stood dumbfounded at the unspoken refusal.

Darkness swelled around him, or more precisely, the inner glow that had cast light around him was quickly fading. He cast a glance in Francis's direction, but the boy was too far now. Besides, the Black God still blocked his way. With an inward sigh, he turned back the way he had come. Who could stop Death, when the soul was so far gone?

It felt like swimming against the current as he tried to make it back to his own body. With every passing moment, it got harder to see… harder to… concentrate… harder… to… breathe… hard-

* * *

Alanna jumped so quickly from her seat in class that it fell over completely. Several of the girls around her jolted in response to the noise. The whole class was certainly staring at her.

"Lady Alanna, is everything alright?" Daughter Thea asked, her face trying to pick between concern or frustration.

"No, it is not; I need to see the First Daughter immediately." The redhead got the distinct feeling that her hoarsely quiet voice worried the instructor more than shouting ever could have. It certainly unnerved Alanna.

"What is it?"

"My brother is dying. I have the Gift, and I can see visions." The lady-in-training hated to lie, but in a pinch one would do. Seeing was one of Thom's power, not hers, but she had no other way to explain the image of her brother, deathly pale, lying in a bed, that had taken hold of her mind or the sense of dread that had taken hold of her heart.

"Yes, very well. Lady Cythera, will you escort Lady Alanna? I don't know that she could make it on her own."

Cythera did not try to talk to her as they made their way to the headmistress's office. Whether frightened for her or of her, Alanna couldn't tell, but the girl kept stealing sideways glances. When they arrived, her lone friend finally spoke up.

"Not sure what you hope to get out of this, but good luck!"

Alanna nodded bleakly. She would need it.

They saw each other some some frequency. The First Daughter sat with the girls at evening meals, and every month each girl met with her privately to discuss progress or lackthereof, but it felt different this time. This time she needed something from the woman who obviously disliked her.

"I need to go to Corus, First Daughter Satinder." She clasped her hands behind her back and said a prayer to the Mother Goddess for goodwill.

"And why, pray, do you need to make a week's journey to the capital?"

"My brother… he's dying." It annoyed her that her voice shook when she spoke the words. She did not wish to show weakness to this woman.

"How could you possibly know that?"

"I have magic, First Daughter. He is sick with something and dying."

"I was not informed you have the Gift."

"It's my father; he hates magic because it did not save my mother during childbirth. We were never to be trained, but the local healing woman taught us what she knew."

Alanna's fingernails bit into her palms, leaving deep, angry crescents. The First Daughter looked as if she was turning something over in her own mind, but they were wasting time with this. Time flew by, and Thom was dying.

"We recently received word that a plague has struck Corus-"

"See!" Alanna cried out, taking another step forward. "You must let me go help!"

"Help?" The frustrating woman sounded amused. "My child, some of the best… no, **the** best healers in the nation, possibly the world, are in the capital, and you think you can be of aid? They are more than qualified to handle some sickness on their own."

"I saw my brother; he looked like death." A single tear dropped unbidden from her cheek, and she violently wiped it away.

"I do not mean to be insensitive," the First Daughter's voice had softened to that infuriating level adults use when they pity you, "but your going now will be of no use to him. If Duke Baird and his healers cannot help the lad, there will be little you can do a week from now."

She meant he was going to die, and there was nothing she could do about it. Alanna's jaw clenched so tight it ached. The woman was already writing her brother off and didn't even have the decency to let Alanna try to save him.

"I suggest you spend this week praying to the Mother Goddess; it will be a much better use of your time."

"But First Daughter…"

"That is the end of this discussion." Alanna was cut off before she could make another plea. "I do not wish to hear another word on the subject. You are excused from your classes should you wish to spend your time in prayer and fasting."

Alanna spun to exit, not caring that she slammed the door like a child in full tantrum. This might be the last she spoke of to the First Daughter, but it was by no means the end of it for her.

* * *

That night, the redhead rolled up the last of her brother's clothes she had hidden away in a makeshift bedroll. Luckily, she had not grown much, so they still fit her. One of the outfits was already on, and a shaggy haired Thom stared back at her in the mirror. The hair had grown down to her shoulders since her time at the City of the Gods, but she decided against cutting it again. Too long hair was not her largest concern right now.

After light's out, Alanna snuck out and tapped on Cythera's door.

"Who are… Alanna?" The taller girl took in her friend's appearance with surprise.

"I need your help." This wasn't easy for the independent girl; she hated asking for help.

"Of course, what is it?"

"I am leaving for Corus tonight. Only, I need to get there fast, and I don't have the money to trade out horses."

Cythera seemed uncertain. "Are you sure this is what you want? They'll never let you back in after this."

"I know, but if there is any chance I can save him, I have to try! Why else would I have the vision?"

Her friend nodded and disappeared, returning with a small satchel. "I'm afraid it isn't much, but this is all I have."

In an uncharacteristic show of affection, Alanna reached out and hugged her friend. They were still embracing when Delia strode over. Her rooms were right next to Cythera's. She must have heard noises and come to inspect.

"What's this? Cythera the lovely has a suitor?"

Alanna whirled around on the girl, hand going to the knife she had… borrowed from the kitchen, though she did not pull it. Her other hand still clutched the money purse.

"Wait, Alanna?" It was her night to surprise folks. "What are you doing?"

"That's none of your business! Go back to bed, Eldorne."

The snotty girl took in Alanna's outfit and even studied the purse before Alanna could whip it behind her back.

"You're running away!" She squealed with delight.

"I'm going to save my brother!" Alanna corrected her.

"Same thing! Oh, this is too good." Even in the darkness of the halls, Alanna could see the girl's eyes gleaming.

"Get out of my way, Delia." Alanna's voice was icy cold.

"And what's to stop me from turning you in right now?"

The pleasure Delia obviously felt about this new sense of power shone from her face. The redhead's hand tightened around the handle of her stolen blade. She could threaten Delia, but the threat would only last as long as she was there. Besides, Alanna knew she would never actually hurt the girl, even if she was a bully. Then, Cythera's earlier words sprang to mind.

"You could do that…." The unspoken 'but' hung in the air between them, and Delia bit.

"I'm listening."

"Well, if they catch me now, I'll be reprimanded, but if I actually manage to get away-"

"They'll kick you out for sure!" The older girl cut her off with glee.

"Alanna…" Cythera's voice trailed off as Alanna held up a hand for her silence.

"Disgraced, unable to show your face at court! Wait right here!"

For a moment, Alanna was worried that the reaction had all been for show, and Delia still planned to get a Daughter. The brunette simply went to her room and returned with a bigger purse, shoving it at the small girl.

"Here, and I'll come with you to distract the stableboy… unless, you planned to go on foot."

Alanna's mouth wanted to pop open from shock, but she refused to look stupid in front of her enemy. Instead, she just nodded, gesturing for Delia to led the way.

Cythera caught her arm before she could follow after.

"Alanna, I don't think this is a good idea." Concern troubled her beautiful friend's face.

"It's a terrible idea," Alanna reassured her with a pat on the hand that covered her arm, "but he's my brother."

With a last smile, she broke away and followed the last person on earth she ever thought would help her.

* * *

Six days later, an exhausted Alanna entered Corus. The trip had been hard and expensive but uneventful. She had avoided Trebond, and only gone into towns during the day to get supplies and fresh horses. Nights were spent hidden in the trees. A part of her realized it had been a dangerous endeavor, but the image of her poor brother had spurred her on.

The sun was setting now, but the streets were eerily deserted. The shops that lined the streets were all shut down, and the few people that did roam between the buildings did not spare her a second glance, save one.

"Master Thom?"

Her eyes found a man that looked to be in his thirties with rumpled hair and an even scruffier beard.

"You know my brother?" She had meant to keep the surprise out of her voice.

"Aye, lass." The man's rueful grin was reassuring, despite the few missing teeth. "S'pose I should take ya to see h'majesty…"

If the news that the man knew her brother had shocked her, the news that he knew the king almost felled her from her horse. Still, she followed after him, his unhurried pace making it feel like she followed a snail, after the rush of her last few days.

When he stopped before an old inn called the Dancing Dove, she knew she had been tricked.

"I'm sorry, sir, but my brother is very sick. I don't have time for this." She waved her hands disparagingly at the building, before making to turn her horse around. How hard could it be to find a palace on her own? Surely someone would recognize her likeness to Thom and help her in.

"I know, Mistress Alanna, but h'majesty can help ye!"

"How do you know my name?" This was beginning to be a little too much for the weary traveler.

"Not many wit' red hair and purple eyes. Young master don't talk much, but his twin sister, Alanna, be the only one he speaks kindly of. Follow me, lass."

With a quick prayer to the Mother Goddess for continued protection, she ducked in the door after him. It was almost as deserted as the streets outside, but the few patrons called out in surprise when they saw the Thom look-a-like.

"Found the tyke wandering the streets of Corus, majesty."

The person her guide referred to as 'majesty' was a boy of no more than eighteen, though his hazel eyes seemed to belong to someone much older. These eyes widened as they took her in.

"I knew you were twins, but seeing's believing." His voice was rough, but he spoke carefully, as if thinking over every word. The first man nodded his agreement.

"Where are my manners? I'm yer… cousin, George." His smile felt easy, and Alanna relaxed just the tiniest bit.

She knew full well he wasn't actually her cousin, but Thom had written to mention their "relation" in Corus in a letter. At the time, she hadn't know why he would invent a family member or try to keep it from his training master. Looking at her surroundings, it made a little more sense now. She rushed over to him now before performing a questionable curtsy.

"George, you have to help me. It's Thom; I… I _saw_ him, and he looked dead. Wait," a terrible thought gripped her. She gulped deeply before she could ask her next question, her voice barely a whisper. "Is he still alive?"

"Aye, lass. He's still alive. A bloody fool, but still alive."

She blinked up at him in confusion. George seemed to take the hint and continued.

"He's been working as a healer in the palace, only he tried some magic well beyond him, and almost paid the ultimate price for it. If you saw him in a vision, it's no wonder he looked dead. My man at the palace said they had to carry him back to his room. He'll be fine once he wakes."

"He still hasn't woken?!" How could this man be so nonchalant, even drained of all magic, he shouldn't have been out for that long.

"It's only been a few hours, give the boy some time." Worry crinkled the older boy's brow.

"A few hours? That can't be right. I saw him six days ago; that's when I left the City of the Gods!"

"Fickle thing, the Gift; no, he was just fine and dandy six days ago. He overstepped himself earlier this morning."

"And he isn't dying?" She asked once more, just for clarification.

"No, though he did lose the page he was trying to save."

She knew it was a horribly inappropriate time to laugh, but she lost herself in an uncharacteristic fit of hysterics. It hit her so hard she cried, and George put a hand beneath her elbow to steady her.

"I'm sorry…" She apologized between fits of laughter. "I'm not usually like this…. It's just..." More laughter. "She was right." That statement got a big guffaw from the girl. To think, Satinder had been right all along.

"It's alright; you've had a bit of a shock."

Alanna finally regained control enough to form complete sentences but had to wipe away the tears that had formed with her sleeve. "I'll say. I was so afraid he had died while I was traveling, and now you tell me he's fine. I ran away for nothing." She smiled up at him, and he returned the gesture.

"I always wanted to leave anyway, but now that they won't let me back… I'm not sure what I'll do."

"You could always get work as a fortune teller, though you'll need to work on the details a bit." His smile was as crooked as his nose.

This time, she laughed at a socially acceptable level. "Thank you, George. I don't know what I would've done if I hadn't run into… My apologies, I didn't ask your name."

"Scholar." He informed her with a not so toothy grin.

She curtsied towards him, stumbling a step when she did. It would be some time before she could think about the number of strange things about this place. Right now, she was having enough trouble focusing on the conversation.

"You don't look too good. Mayhap, you should sit."

"I'm fine. I'd like to see Thom, if you can find a way to get me to him."

"We'll get you there tomorrow. I think you ought to rest the night first."

Her hands went to her hips; Alanna hated being treated like a child. "I said I'm fine."

"If you looked in a mirror, you might not think so."

"Fine, I will just find the way on my own." She whirled around to leave and promptly fainted for the first time in her life.

The deft thief caught her before she could hit the ground and scooped her up into his arms.

"Did she come alone?" The Rogue asked his underling.

"Naught was with her when I clapped eyes on her."

"From the City of the Gods to Corus in six days." George whistled appreciatively. It would have been a grueling journey for a full grown man, much less an eleven-year-old girl.

"Must be tough as nails, that one."

George nodded. "I'll put her to bed; we'll get her to Thom in the morning."

Scholar bowed to his king as the man turned to take his tiny load upstairs to the rooms at the inn. The girl was as small as her brother and felt as if she hadn't eaten in days. The Rogue couldn't help but wonder if the ornery Thom knew how blessed he was to have a sister like this.

He settled her into the bed in his own chambers, carefully removing her boots and cloak. His Sight was a funny thing. The first time he had seen the boy twin, George had felt he should meet the lad, but with Alanna, it felt like he had been hit upside the head with the need.

When the blankets covered her tiny frame, he sighed. He wasn't sure what life had in store for this little one, but he had the distinct feeling it wasn't going to be an easy road.

* * *

 _A/N: Gotcha, didn't I? Hope you enjoyed it! Tons more Alanna next chapter, so be excited!_


	7. Sweating Sickness

_A/N: *Looks around for sharp, pointy objects before fully appearing*_

 _Alright people, don't hate me! I know you all assumed I had abandoned you, but I love this story too much to do that now. I can't promise the speediest updates, but I definitely don't want to give this one up!_

 _Anywho, hope you all enjoy this newest installment._

* * *

Opening your eyes to a completely foreign room is an unnerving experience, add to that a strange man in the corner, and no one could blame Alanna's reaching for the knife in her belt loop.

"It's not there, lass." The man spoke carefully, as if he didn't want to frighten her. "I'll not have you stabbing me when we just met."

The previous night's encounter finally came back to her. The man was George Cooper, and he knew hew brother.

"Thom…" The name came out as a quiet gasp.

"Still out cold but recovering just fine. I had my man in the palace check on him earlier."

Alanna tucked questions regarding "his man" away for later. At the moment, her nose had become aware of the steaming bowl of porridge that was beside the bed, and her stomach decided to announce its desires rather loudly.

"I thought you might be hungry." The older boy said with a laugh, earning him a glare from the little girl. "Ah, don't like being laughed at? A trait you share with Master Thom."

"May I?" She asked, indicating the bowl and ignoring his comment.

"That's what it's there for! When you've finished breakfast, I've a proper dress for you, and then, we can take you to the palace to see your brother. Cross dressing is frowned on at the palace."

A cough of laughter almost brought up the bite of porridge that Alanna had shoveled into her mouth. Given her plans just a year ago, he could have no idea how ironic that statement was.

"The porridge won't run away." He commented as she hurried her way through the meal.

"I want to see Thom." She informed him between bites.

"So you've mentioned. I'll be downstairs when you're ready."

Rather than reply, she studied the room. It was tidy with plain sturdy furniture. However, the door was adorned with with a wrought gold mirror and the candlestick beside her was silver. The pieces felt out of place considering the exterior of the Dancing Dove, assuming she was right and he had not taken her someplace else. George Cooper was no ordinary man.

Not fifteen minutes later, Alanna was downstairs, flattening her palms over the gray-green dress George had left her. It was proper clothing for a girl her age and status, but she already missed her brother's breeches. She done a quick braid on her hair that Cythera had taught her. The braid circled the back of her head, masking how unusually short it still was for a noblewoman.

Scholar was nowhere to be seen, just George, lounging at a table and an old barkeep wiping down some mugs. She frowned at the look of surprise on George's face and shifted nervously. Luckily, he wasted no time in getting up and heading for the door, and the redhead needed no prompting to follow after.

"And here I thought ladies were supposed to take forever to get ready…" He said as they left, handing her a warm roll that smelled of herbs and sausage.

Alanna harrumphed in a most un-ladylike manner rather dignify the comment with a response. Of course, the lack of retort might have been from the huge piece of breakfast roll in her mouth, which she was currently trying to blow through to cool. If George chuckled at the spectacle, Alanna ignored it. When they arrived outside, Alanna found a single horse.

"I hate sidesaddle." She spoke around the last remnant of roll.

"You'd be a much less convincing lady riding into the palace with your skirts hiked up to your thighs, so up you go."

It was too late to stop him, when his surprisingly strong hands grabbed her around the waist to hoist her up and deposit her in the saddle, but she did protest, loudly.

"I could have gotten up her on my own, you know!" Alanna settled her leg over the contraption that would keep her seated.

"You're half as tall as that horse; besides, you're in a hurry to see Master Thom, aren't you?" His grin was wicked as he turned this fact against her.

She glared, but he was already going around the front to lead the horse for her. This might have bothered her, if she had known where they were going. The streets were just as deserted as the day before, no doubt from the sickness. At least, it meant they didn't have to fight through the traffic of people. Judging by the size of the thoroughfares, Alanna imagined quite a few people could be crammed in here.

George's pace was brisk, and, uncomfortable though she was, the redhead was glad for the horse. She would have struggled to keep up with the lanky man.

They passed some time in companionable silence before Alanna called up to George.

"So, how did you and my brother meet?" Thom could hardly have told her the story by letter, considering the man was supposed to be family.

"Truth be told, I sought him out."

Alanna quirked an eyebrow at that, which the man could not see. She had some guesses about what George did for a living, and it seemed an unlikely pairing with a page. "What for?"

"Not _for_ anything." A hint of playful reproach crept into his voice. "In my line of work, it is always good to look out for… interesting people."

That was one of the nicer words she had heard used to describe her brother. "He's definitely that."

"You as well."

"No, I'm not." She countered a little too quickly.

"As you say, lass." He spared a quick glance of skepticism back. "Though, even forgetting the purple eyes, I've not known many noble ladies who would ride unaccompanied cross country for six days, even for so good a cause as saving their brothers."

"It's not because I'm interesting; that's just because insanity runs in my family."

The hazel-eyed man just shrugged. Alanna got the feeling he did not ruffle easily. It was not a trait she shared.

"Before we get much closer, we need to discuss your visit. Do you want this to be an official visit?"

The sudden conversation shift left her scrambling to catch up. "What do you mean 'official'?"

"It means you, at the very least, greet the training master, Duke Gareth of Naxen and ask for permission to see your brother. Which, given the circumstances of your arrival and Thom's imminent recovery, he may decide to deny you. Best not to encourage young ladies to run away from the convent. Worst case, the Duke could bring you before their Majesties for an audience."

"What's the other option?" The first sounded unappealing.

"You'll just go straight to see Thom, then after you've checked on him, you can return to the Dancing Dove with no one the wiser. There are plenty of visitors in the palace these days, as long as you keep those eyes down, who's to know? Then you can decide what you want to do next on your own time."

It felt a little underhanded, but she was in enough trouble without having to explain it all to the King and Queen of Tortall. She needed time to think through her options before any royal decrees were handed down.

"How long can I stay with him?"

"They'll have already checked on him this morning and seeing how he isn't going to get worse for laying there, you should be good til lunch, so a few hours."

"Alright."

She had lost the city, caught up in the discussion. Now, conversation stopped completely as they cleared the rise. Temples of a scale she had never seen spread out around them, and above it all, she could see the palace.

While the city below had not been busy, worshippers still scurried between the buildings, no doubt asking for favor from their deities. Alanna could hear the chanting of the Dark God's priests even from the streets. She shuddered at the eerie repetitions that hummed through the air with power.

When they finally cleared that quarter, George came to a halt, bringing the reins back to her.

"Straight through this gate is the stable, Stefan will take your horse, and my man, Bayard, will meet you there. Tell him you want to see Thom; he'll know what it means."

"You're not coming?" She gulped involuntarily at the thought of entering the palace alone.

"There's some in the palace it'd be better I not meet."

"Like the Lord Provost?" She gave voice to her guess for the first time. Everyone knew the title of the man tasked with keeping the peace in Corus.

"He might be one of 'em." The thief said with a wink, confirming her suspicions. "Did your brother tell you?"

"No, it just explains more than it doesn't."

"Good luck in there. I'll meet you out here when you leave."

She nodded appreciatively, even happier for not having to admit she could not remember her way back to the inn. After one last sigh of resignation, she straightened her back and rode into the palace.

The trip in was almost disappointingly uneventful. Stefan had greeted her and even let her see Chubby (who looked a little worse for the wear) and then Bayard, a reddish-brown haired, unassuming man, led her through the maze of the castle. She had been worried at first, as much as she looked like Thom, that she would be recognized and immediately sent before the monarchs, but after a couple hallways, she relaxed.

Everyone was moving around in such a hurry, they did not spend the time to give passing greetings, much less study her facial features.

"This is the page's wing." Bayard explained as they exited a stairwell. Alanna's heart sped up. The residents here were much more likely to notice the fact that she looked exactly like Thom. "They are all either sick or working. Since Master Thom is not sick, he was taken back to his rooms."

Alanna nodded, still a little afraid to speak. When they stopped at a door that she assumed was her brother's. The auburn haired man spoke again. "I'll come gather you here before lunch. No one should bother you in the meantime."

"Thank you, Bayard."

The man nodded a disappeared down a side hallway.

Thom lay in a bed, looking for all the world like he was in a deep sleep. He was unusually pale, but he must have regained some of his color overnight because he already looked better than he had in her vision.

"Thom, you dolt!" She shut the door and went over to his bed, punching him in his arm to emphasize her point. "You're supposed to be the strong one when it comes to magic."

She sat down on a small stool beside his bed and held his hand. When George had said he was fine, Alanna had believed him, but it felt good to see him, to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would be fine.

For a while, she spoke to him about little things, but slowly, the quiet of the room and her chaotic week caught up to her, until she was bent in two, her head lying next to Thom's on the pillow.

The sound of the door opening woke her up. Only, it wasn't Bayard standing there when she looked up.

"Excuse me!" The black haired, blue-eyed youth said, turning red in the face. He obviously had not expected to walk into a room with a sleeping girl.

Alanna catapulted up, now very much awake.

"Wait… who are you? No, I can guess that, considering you look like Thom put a dress on." Now, it was Alanna's turn to blush. "Sorry, I only meant to say you must be his sister."

She nodded.

"But how did you get here? Shouldn't you be at the City of the Gods?"

"I… have family in town." She borrowed Thom's lie.

The taller boy looked like he was about to question further, but then just nodded. He looked tired, too tired for someone his age.

"I just came to check on Thom."

"That was nice of you." She stepped back to give the boy room to see Thom.

"He was trying to save Francis's life, you know." His voice caught on the other boy's name.

Alanna nodded again. "My… cousin told me he ended up this way because he was trying to save another page."

"I think we misjudged Thom. He's difficult to get along with." The blue-eyed boy seemed like he needed to talk this out, so she kept silent. "We thought he just didn't like us, but then he almost dies trying to save one of us. Even when Ralon died a few months back, Thom wanted to save him. I had to fight him off, gave me a bloody lip just trying to get through, but the squire was already dead. Nothing he could do, even good as he is, you can't bring the dead back to life."

Alanna kept her surprise to herself. She dearly loved her brother, and she knew that he loved her too. However, she was not so naive as to not realize that he generally disliked all others. His friendship with George had been odd enough, but had Thom truly changed while he was training for knighthood?

"I'm sorry; I'm babbling." Despite the sparkling white of the boy's teeth, the smile he flashed looked dim on his face.

"Are you alright?" She asked worriedly; he certainly didn't look alright.

"I'm fine, just tire-" A violent cough cut him off before he could finish the sentence.

"Let's get you back to your rooms." She put a tentative hand on the boy's shoulder; heat radiated from his skin, even through his tunic.

"I don't want to take you from your brother."

"He'll still be lying there when I get back."

He nodded, suddenly looking too tired to talk. She actually had to help him up from the stool and threaded her arm through his as they made their way out of the room. Another terrible fit of coughs hit him in the hallway, and Alanna could feel each breath rasp from his lungs.

Luckily, he was able to point out the way to his rooms, not too far from Thom. The farther they walked, the more she felt him leaning on her. By the time they were in his room, he practically collapsed in the bed.

"Thank you." He said as if he expected her to leave him now. A tiny part of her wanted to. Someone would find him soon enough and get him help, and then, she wouldn't be discovered. But she squashed that part with disgust. She could not leave this poor boy to fend for himself when he obviously had the Sweating Sickness.

Instead, she stepped back into the hallway. It was empty, but if her trip to this wing had taught her anything, it was there was always someone just around the corner.

"I need a healer now." She projected confidence she didn't have into her voice. One of the few things she had actually learned from the Daughters.

Soon enough, two servants, judging from the matching uniforms she had seen on Bayard, came to investigate what the yelling was about.

"This page has come down with the Sweating Sickness. I need any available healer quickly."

The servants looked through the open doorway behind her, eyes widening.

"Immediately, milady." One said, speeding away. Alanna was surprised the servants were still so scared of the sickness. She was under the impression it had runs its course and expected most would have been used to it by now.

"What can I do to help, milady?" The remaining servant asked, constantly looking into the room behind her.

"Get me lots of blankets and fresh water." If the fever drained healers as quickly as she had heard, then they must be trying the natural remedies first. She would just get everything ready for the real healer, and then slip out when they arrived.

A healer returned with the first servant impressively fast. He was a tall man with green eyes set deep. He was also lanky to the point of being gaunt, and he looked… defeated. Alanna kept her eyes down and tried to excuse herself before he became aware of her presence. Silently, she hoped another healer would come soon to help; this man looked as if he would not be able to do much for the page.

"Young lady."

Alanna stopped dead in her tracks but did not turn to face the man.

"Look at me."

For just a moment, she entertained the idea of fleeing. In his state, he would never catch her, but she would just get lost in the palace. Besides, the way the servant was looking at her with wide eyes and motioning with his head for her turn made her think this healer was someone not to be ignored.

She followed his order reluctantly, looking up.

"Great Mithros." The man gasped. Alanna was used to such reactions.

What she was not prepared for was the man crossing the room and seizing her shoulders. He bent down until his face was level with her, which was no small feet. He studied her face, as if trying to solve some mystery, and when he spoke, his voice was feverish with hope.

"Are you trained like your brother?" She doubted he realized he was shaking her. "Can you heal?"

She could lie; she could tell him she was not, and he should find someone else, if he couldn't take care of it. Only, Maude's warning before she left rang in her ears. But Alanna wasn't going to be a knight. She would not take any lives; she had nothing to make up for.

"That is Prince Jonathan lying there, girl. Can you help him?" The man's desperate voice broke through her musings, suddenly explaining the terror she had seen in the servant's eyes. Their prince was dying.

Alanna looked around the man to the boy, now drenched in sweat. The prince who had come to check on her brother, even when he was ill. The man she would have sworn allegiance to and served unto death, in another life.

"I can."

"Then, there is hope." The older gentleman collapsed to his knees, a faint smile coming to his lips. "This girl is to be obeyed as you would any palace healer."

What exactly had Thom done here that this adult would trust her so completely?

"Yes, Your Grace." Alanna knew from her lessons that title meant the man was a Duke. What had she gotten herself into?

"I will inform the King and Queen." The redhead wished for all the world she could disappear into one of the tapestries that hung on the prince's walls. "What is your name child?"

It was too late to lie now. He obviously knew who she was; even if gave him a fake name, it would not be too hard to figure it out later.

"Alanna of Trebond, You Grace."

"Lady Alanna, the Goddess herself must have sent you in our hour of need. I am Duke Baird, if you need for anything, have a servant get me."

There was a name everyone in the kingdom knew. He was the youngest man ever selected to be chief of the palace healers. Even her father respected this man, though he generally ignored the fact that he had magic. Maude spoke Baird's name like someone whispering a prayer.

"I leave the prince to you." Alanna nodded dumbly, feeling the hopes of the kingdom suddenly resting on her small shoulders.

"Let's get this fire going." She spoke to the servants; her voice caught at first, but she forged ahead.

Within an hour, the room was stifling. The young mage planned to break the fever first, as it was the most dangerous, but it was difficult to handle in full skirts. Stepping outside the room for a moment, to get some fresh air, she wondered how the Duke would react if he came back and she was in Thom's clothes.

The sound of chanting wafting through the hallway stopped her from going to check on Thom... and changing clothes. As she watched, a troop of priests from the Black God's temple made their way toward her in ominous synchronicity. She wondered who had passed away that required the presence of so many priests but hung her head out of respect as they went past her. Only, they didn't. They stopped before her, smoke from the incense in hanging braziers coiling around them.

"May I assist you, Friends?" She used their proper address and wobbled a curtsy.

"We have come to see the Prince." The foremost priest spoke with a raspy voice.

"He is not dead." She informed them, head tilted to the side in confusion.

"We have heard his fever set in quickly." Alanna felt impressed by how quickly news spread through such a large place. "We pray for his spirit whether it remains here or joins the Black God."

The emphasis the head priest put on the latter possibility grated on her. He thought the prince was as good as dead. The smell of incense was already heavy in the air around them, and she just couldn't take it anymore. These men wanted to go into a sick room and fill it with smoke while wailing prayers to the Black God. It went against everything she knew as a healer. Surely, someone would stop this madness.

Only there was no one to turn to. It would be unfair to ask the servants to stand up to the representative of a god. The only other person she knew in the entire palace was Duke Baird, and not only would it take time to find him but he also didn't look like he could stand up to a brisk breeze, much less anyone of rank.

It fell to her.

Her last year may not have been spent fighting hand-to-hand, but she had been training to fend off unwanted guests. Alanna's back straightened, and her chin lifted ever so slightly. Her knees felt a little weak, but she was not about to let that show. Instead, she adopted her best Daughter Thea voice. The teacher always swore kindness could get you anywhere.

"Friends, while I understand and appreciate your concern for our Prince. I simply cannot allow you to enter. Patients need quiet and clean air in order to recuperate." She smiled more at her own diplomacy than to comfort the men in front of her, but if it helped her case… "Of course, their majesties would wish for your prayers; I only ask that you do so from your temple, that between your intercessions and the aid of the healers, the Prince might be saved."

The priests shifted uncomfortably before her, and for just a moment, she thought they would listen to her. Then the leader cleared his throat to speak.

"Who are you to deny us entry?" She thought she saw some nods of assent from those behind him.

Why did this man have to ask such a reasonable question? She wasn't even twelve yet, had just run away from the convent, yet here she stood between the priests of the Black God and the heir apparent of Tortall. Who was she?

She was probably the only one left who could save this boy's life.

"I am Lady Alanna of Trebond," now she sounded more like Satinder, "and the one who Duke Baird appointed as the Prince's personal healer."

It was a bit of a stretch, but she needed something. There was a tense moment, then the high priest nodded. Her mention of the Duke probably did more good than the fact that she was from a little known noble family, but she decided she was grateful either way as, in perfect unison, they turned and retreated down the hallway, leaving only the leader behind.

"We will do as you request, Lady Alanna. Take good care of the Prince."

Alanna released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding when he joined the group. She slumped against the doorway.

"That was well handled, young lady."

The redhead whirled in surprise, to find another gentleman standing behind her. His clothes were a little sloppy but obviously expensive. He was not too tall with a belly that indicated a life of leisure and bits of gray running through his, otherwise, brown hair.

The comment had not felt like a chastisement, but Alanna ducked her head all the same. Today had already been more than most girls her age could handle. She much preferred adults to ignore her.

"Allow me to introduce myself, Lady Alanna; I am Sir Myles of Olau." His plump frame gave a very proper bow with a very pleasant smile. "I teach History to your brother… and the prince."

She bobbed a curtsy. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

His scrutiny did not leave her with the same shrinking feeling that the priests', or even the Duke's, had. Finally, he broke into a small smile, shaking his head.

"Forgive me, Thom said he had a twin sister but seeing is believing."

"That's alright; we are used to it. Our own father can't tell us apart, apart from the skirts."

"Thom does not speak of your father very much."

"Unless something's changed, Thom doesn't speak much of anyone, except Thom."

Any reply was cut off by a short, abrupt cough. Alanna studied the man, worried he might be coming down with the sickness as well. When he looked back at her, he was smiling. He just cleared his throat and indicated the room behind her.

"How's our prince?"

* * *

The next day was one of the hardest of Alanna's life. Not only did it test her abilities as a healer beyond anything she had ever experienced, she felt the scrutiny of an entire kingdom upon her. For the most part only Sir Myles or Duke Baird stayed with her for any length of time, but she did receive an uncomfortable visit from the King and Queen, the very monarchs of the castle she had just sneaked into. Luckily, they were much more interested in visiting their son than speaking with her.

Everyone was gracious enough not to bring up her unorthodox arrival. Or maybe they were all just waiting until after she had saved the prince's life… if she saved the prince's life. She had managed to stop his horrible cough using natural methods but the fever just wouldn't break. She had been feeding power into him, but it persisted.

"I don't think you have anything left to give." Sir Myles clapped a hand to her shoulder. Alanna had quickly realized that this man deeply cared for his students. "Why don't you let me call Duke Baird?"

They both knew Jonathan was dying. Despite her best efforts, he would not last the night. Myles could also clearly see that she was shaking from everything she has tried thus far. The room was certainly sweltering but not all the sweat was from the heat.

"If it were Thom, would you ask him to give up?" Her quiet question was met with silence.

The older knight looked unsure as to how he should answer, but she didn't really need one. If she had been the page, she would have given everything to save this boy. It was what fealty required. The real question was if she was brave enough to try something that had almost killed her brother.

"You'd better leave." She went to grab the herbs she had requested from the servants. Maybe, she had known all along it would come to this.

"I will stay with you."

She nodded reflexively when he spoke, though she was no longer paying attention to him. The vervain went into the fire, and she began to whisper the words Maude had taught her. It took longer than it should have for the flames to turn purple, but then, she was exhausted from everything she had already tried. When the hearth matched the color of her magic, she reached her hands into the fire. Alanna watched her very essence dissolving into the fire until there was no separation between it and her.

"Dark Goddess, Great Mother, show me the way, open the gates to me, guide me, Mother of Mountains and Mares."

The fire grew with a deafening roar, flames threatening to engulf the girl. Suddenly, she was no longer staring at flames. Countless doors opened and shut around her, but what drew her attention was the city. She had seen it once before when Maude had tried to divine their future. Now, it stood before her again; the glossy, black monolith called to her. The singing streets left a chill in her that even the beating sun could not dispel.

Just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. Sheer power slammed into her to replace the chill. This new energy, so much greater than her own, shone through her skin. No, it wanted to burst through her. It was too much; no one could contain this.

 _Call him back._ Alanna wanted to shield her ears as a voice spoke to her. It was not meant for human hearing. _I am here, child. Call him back._

Her cheeks were wet with tears of pain. An image of Thom lying in his bed came to her. She would join him soon, if the voice and the pain didn't kill her first. At that thought, she stopped. Thom was meant to be the sorcerer; they both knew that. However, Alanna had never been the weak one. Thom had survived this pain; would she succumb?

No, she was stronger than this. She would not be left crippled by pain and fear. Slowly, she fought back the pain, shoving it to a corner of her mind where it would not distract her from what needed to be done. There was a life to save.

The redhead walked to the bed, eyes intent on the prince. He seemed so far away.

 _He has traveled a long way._ A part of Alanna realized the voice was female, but the pain it caused was too distracting to dwell on that thought. _Take his hands; call him back._

"Thank you." She wasn't sure who she spoke to. The voice hadn't come from the room but from within her mind.

"Your Highness, it's time to come home." She took the boy's hands in her own. Her mind reached out to his as she stared into his eyes. They were blue pools into which she found herself falling, chasing after him.

Gone was the sparkling blue of his eyes, replacing by a blackness that swirled around her like spilled ink. The unearthly sounds of lost souls assaulted her ears as she hung between life and death. The prince was here, lost somewhere in this darkness.

"Your Highness…" She wondered if he would respond to his title. "Prince Jonathan."

Finally, she saw him, illuminated by light that seemed to stem from her. Only Jon was not alone there at the bottom of this pit, with him stood the Dark God. Not for the first time that day, she knew real fear. The Master of All Death blocked her way to the boy she wanted to save.

"Excuse me," she knew it was crazy to argue with a god, but she had to try. "You can't have him; his time hasn't come yet. I'll take him back with me."

The hooded figure reached for her, and she reacted instinctively, throwing up a shield between herself and those shadowy hands.

"You can't have him." She sounded braver than she felt, but the hands passed right through her magical shield, clasping her shoulders.

Her eyes grew wide as the god inspected her. Had Thom gone through this? Alanna felt exposed as she waited for whatever came next. Finally, the great head nodded, and the figure disappeared.

It was just her and the heir to the throne now.

She took his hand. "Prince Jonathan, it's time to come home now. This place isn't for us."

The boy looked at their entwined hands, but Alanna heard a man's voice when he responded. "Do I know you?"

"We met once." She shook her head at him in amused disbelief. Who worried about introductions when they were at death's door? "But what is important is that people are waiting on you: Thom, Sir Myles, Duke Baird, your parents..."

'You're right." His smile sparkled even in the darkness surrounding them. "I'm coming."

"It's time to leave now." She smiled in return as their powers combined at their clasped hands, burning away the last vestiges of this horrible pit.

When they were both back fully in their bodies, she heard the young Jonathan speak. "It's good to be back."

She smiled. In spite of her aching bones and throbbing head, she had just saved a life. The boy's breathing evened out, and Alanna knew he was sleeping. She laid her head down next to his shoulder; he seemed so peaceful.

"He'll be fine now." She murmured, not sure if Sir Myles could hear her, and promptly passed out.

* * *

 _A/N: Read, review, let me know that my coming back to you was not in vain!_


	8. New Beginnings

_A/N: This chapter isn't terribly long, but I wanted to go ahead and get something out to you all. Now, we get to see a little bit more of the fun Alanna will have in Corus._

 _Side Note: I am terrible at writing out accents, but I am trying! If you notice something weird about George or his rogues, please just let it be. Unless, you are willing to beta for me!_

* * *

At least this time, when Alanna awoke in a strange room, she had a good idea of where she was. She was a little surprised, though, to find Sir Myles sitting next to her. The knight smiled warmly at her, as she pulled herself up in the bed. Looking around, she thought she might be in Thom's room.

When she focused back on the older man, he was holding a cup of water for her. Seeing the liquid the young girl realized just how thirsty she was. She took it gratefully, trying to minimize the noise as she greedily gulped it down. Judging by the amusement on Myles's face, Alanna hadn't been successful.

"How long have I been out?" She asked when the cup was dry.

"Three days." It was more than she had expected, but then, she had never so fully drained herself.

"And Thom?"

"He recovered two days ago and is already back on the training grounds." Seeing the mild shock on her face, he explained with chagrin. "The life of a page is not an easy one. Morning classes finished, so I thought I would come check on you."

"Thank you, that was very kind of you."

"And fortuitous. How are you feeling?" He was looking at her funny again. She had noticed him doing that several times over their short period together.

"Like I was trampled by horses."

His laugh rang out in the empty room. "Has anyone ever told you that you are blunt?"

"The Daughters have mentioned it a few times." She blushed and decided to change the subject. "How is His Highness?"

"He is doing well; he just woke up yesterday, so he will be resting for a few days before they send him back as well. Being a prince does have its advantages. You did a great thing, saving him." Sir Myles was eying her again, but she waved him off.

"I'd rather you not mention it. In fact, I don't suppose it is too late to ask you not to talk about what happened?"

Sir Myles shook his head ruefully. "I am afraid your brother saw to that." Alanna grimaced. "When he woke up, he was, understandably, worried about you, so I told him the details of your condition. It seems he was… proud of you and shared the story as well. I doubt anyone in Corus does not know the story now."

Alanna hid her face in her hands. What was she to do? When it was just a handful of people, she thought she stood a chance of sneaking away quietly to whatever fate she could make for herself. But now?

"Are you sure you are related to Thom?"

The knight's question pulled her from her melancholy, and she looked at him quizzically. "We're twins."

"Of course, no one with eyes could deny that, but your temperaments are so disparate."

"Sir?" He had a way of speaking that left her very confused.

"You don't act anything alike."

"Oh, no sir. We've never been much alike in personality."

Her growling stomach interrupted any further conversation on that point.

"Silly me, chattering away when you have just woken up. I will have some food sent up to you. Any servant can direct you to the baths, and your family from the city has sent you some clothes. Take it easy today; you are still recovering."

When Sir Myles left, Alanna got out of bed gingerly and stretched. Even with the pain of stiff muscles, it felt good to move. Among the clothes the knight had mentioned, Alanna found a note in a messy hand.

 _Dear Cousin,_

 _We heard about your unexpected stay at the palace and wanted to send you some essentials. It seems you were in the right place at the right time. Once you are better, feel free to visit us in the city._

Alanna sighed at George's short note. Her debt to that man was growing, and she had no idea how she was going to repay it.

* * *

Lunch, a long soak, and fresh clothes had the redhead feeling human again. She returned to her brother's room but quickly grew restless with nothing to do. Finally, when she could stand it no longer, she decided, if she was in a palace that trained knights, she might as well take advantage of it. Grabbing the first servant she saw, Alanna followed the man's directions outside and only had to ask two more people to make it out.

It was a little chilly for a spring day, but the deep blue dress George had sent was a sturdy, practical fabric. The palace kept an outdoor archery court along with practice bows stocked for visiting gentry. Alanna ran her hand along the recurve she had picked out. It had been too long since she shot.

She chose a close target, knowing she was out of practice, and drew the bow.

It took a while for her body to remember all it had learned over the years. Eventually, she was able to move on to targets farther away as her muscles fell into the familiar rhythm. Alanna might have lost some of her skill, but she was pleased with her shots.

"Your aim is good, and you're a steady shot." She hadn't realized she had an audience. "But your stance is all wrong."

"Shouldn't you be resting?" The words popped out of her mouth before she remembered she was speaking to the Crown Prince.

"I could ask the same of you." He jumped off the fence on which he had perched and approached her with an easy smile. "I thought you were still unconscious."

"I woke up this afternoon, Your Highness."

"And you thought archery was a good way to recover?" He was standing beside her now, but she refused to look up at him.

"I don't like being cooped up in the palace, Highness."

The prince's laughter felt mirthful, not derisive. "Thom mentioned you weren't a typical girl."

Alanna would have preferred her brother not mention her at all. Was he doing this to her on purpose? Her twin knew well and good that she did not appreciate attention the way he did.

"May I?"

She looked up to see he was indicating her bow. She handed it over, albeit reluctantly. It was essentially his bow or, at the very least, his parent's. He took up his stance with practiced grace, each motion slightly exaggerated .

"You want to put your feet here and here." He said looking down. Usually, she would have been offended that a boy not much older than her was trying to tell her how to shoot, but he wasn't being patronizing about it. Besides, he _was_ training to be a knight.

"This stance is much more stable and allows for easy movement if necessary." The prince demonstrated as she watched his smooth transitions. "Your hands should go here and here."

Again, he demonstrated. First, he went through the motions without an arrow, then again with. After he hit the bullseye, he held the bow back out to her.

"Now, you try."

Alanna took the proffered bow back. She tried her best to imitate his stance. Prince Jonathan gently corrected the position of her hands and told her to widen her legs. It felt unnatural to Alanna, and her shooting only worsen as she tried a couple shots.

Still, the heir was a surprisingly good teacher. After every few arrows, he would stop her and readjust. He even had her step away completely and then get back into the stance several times.

"I know it feels awkward now," he reassured her, "but when you are finally comfortable, your shooting will have greatly improved. You're already better than Thom."

"Nothing new there, HIghness."

The boy laughed at her comment. He had done that several times already. People around here found the oddest things funny. It felt like every time she stated a fact, someone laughed about it.

After another hour of practice, the muscles in the redhead's arms began to tremble every time she drew the bow. As out of shape as she was, she would not be able to last much longer.

"I am afraid it is almost time for me to retire." The prince informed her. "Dinner will be served soon. I don't have to serve tonight, so my parents have requested I dine with them. Would you like to go back with me? Thom's rooms are not far from mine."

She thought about refusing. Alanna wasn't sure how she felt about the prince suffering her presence any longer; she didn't want him to feel obligated. However, he was already going that way, and it meant she wouldn't have to ask for directions again.

"That would be nice."

He waited for her to return the bow, and then they were off. His pace was quick, and she had to walk double time to keep up with his long strides. It felt like he was taking her a different way than she had come, but he took each step with the confidence of someone who had grown up in this labyrinth.

"So, while I have you, what would my savior ask of me? Up to half of my kingdom!"

She didn't even have time to wonder if he was joking as the words spilled unbidden from her lips. "Let me join the pages."

Alanna bumped into the prince's back as he stopped abruptly. He started to laugh, but the sound died in his throat as he turned to face her. Prince Jonathan blanched as he took in the redhead's hopeful expression.

"You're serious?" His obvious confusion confused her.

"I wouldn't joke about becoming a knight, Highness."

The heir apparent studied her just a moment longer before he shook his head. "No, I suppose you wouldn't. Interesting as it would be to see you try for a shield, this isn't a request I can grant." He turned away and started walking again. "My father takes his title of peacemaker very seriously, and he would never agree to let women fight for the crown."

"Oh…." She tried not to let disappointment temper her voice as she turned a corner with him.

"I can't make you a knight, but maybe I could teach you how to use a sword?"

"Really? Can we go _now_?" Her eyes lit up in anticipation.

"No," the boy chuckled quietly to himself, "I truly do have to get ready for the evening meal. I'll have a couple days to recover, so we can spend time training tomorrow and the next day. It will only be the basics, mind you."

"I'll learn anything, Highness!"

"Thom wasn't joking about you not being a typical girl, and to think I figured you would ask for dresses or jewels." Alanna scoffed at the idea. "If you were incredibly ambitious, I worried you might ask to be queen."

It was Alanna's turn to stop dead in her tracks.

"Here we are." Jonathan announced having gone on down the hall.

It was only then the prince realized he had lost his companion. Looking back, he saw her still frozen in place. He retraced his steps to stand next to her, a knowing smile on his lips.

"You regretting not thinking to ask that?"

It took a moment for her to put together the meaning of his question. "To be queen?"

She barely got out the last word before you burst out laughing. Her? Queen of Tortall? The idea was preposterous. She could just imagine First Daughter Satinder's face at that announcement. The woman would probably flee the country. Actually, it would probably be in the people's best interest to flee; she would make a terrible queen.

"And what's so funny about marrying me?" That question sobered her up quick. The prince looked like his pride might have been wounded.

"It isn't that, so much…"

"So much?" The prince parroted her words in disbelief.

"... as that I am not exactly queen material, Highness. I'd much rather be hunting in the forest than dancing with some ambassador."

"Yes, I am beginning to put that together. You are a complicated girl, Alanna of Trebond."

"Not really, Highness, I'm quite simple, actually."

"Well, you're not like any girl I've ever met." Alanna just shrugged; he was probably right. "And most people who have saved my life call me Jonathan or Jon. That's Thom's room."

For the second time, Jonathan left Alanna standing in the hallway dumbfounded. Only this time, he didn't come back for her. The prince of Tortall wanted to her to call him by his first name... Wait, had he just said he would have married her if she had asked?

"Was that the prince?" It could have been Alanna's voice for all that she had not opened her mouth.

"THOM!" The redhead girl whirled around to embrace her brother, trying to ignore the fact that he had managed to sneak up on her.

"Alright, alright." He patted her on the back impatiently. "Can you leave off the hysterics until we are in my room?"

Alanna opened her eyes to see that other pages and squires were filing down the hall. Some looked surprised, and others looked like they were laughing. Everyone, however, was looking at them.

She released him and stepped away. "Sorry, let's go in."

Once they were safely in his quarters, Thom made no move to revisit his sister's warm greeting. He stood there, arms crossed, looking generally displeased. Surely, he couldn't still be upset that she had hugged him in front of his peers.

"Why are you here Alanna? Did you come to save the prince?"

"What?" She asked, taken aback by the abrupt question. "No, why would you ask that?"

"They are talking about it around the palace, that you were sent to save the prince."

"That's ridiculous! And if they are talking about it, I guess I have you to thank for it! Sir Myles told me you told everyone I saved him." She knew she wasn't helping to calm her brother's temper, but she was hurt their reunion had so quickly turned into an argument.

"Well, someone had to save your reputation!"

"My reputation?!" That comment took her by surprise.

"A single young lady runs away from the convent, shows up to court unaccompanied. Everyone was talking about the scandal; no one's ever heard of a lady acting in such a manner, not a respectable one, anyway. What were you thinking?"

Sir Myles nor Duke Baird had asked for a full account of her arrival yet, so Thom couldn't know the full story yet either.

"I had a vision…"

"Since when do you have visions?" Her twin cut her off.

"I don't _have_ visions; I had _a_ vision." Thom waved his hand in dismissal of her distinction. "It turned out to not be a very accurate one, anyway. I thought you were dying, and I had to come see you! The prince just happened to be visiting your room when he fell ill."

"So you came for me?" His expression soften when he asked the question.

She put her hands on her hips and waited. He was a smart boy, when he wasn't being completely nonsensical; Thom didn't need his sister to confirm what he already knew. Alanna still didn't understand what had upset him about her saving the prince, but they had only ever had each other. He knew she would always come to help him when he needed it.

"Well, your vision might not have been as off the mark as you think."

"Really?" Alanna knew better than to hope for an apology; Thom never apologized for anything.

"Prince Jonathan must not have been as far gone as Francis was when you cast the spell because when I went after Francis, I met Death; I met the Black God."

Luckily, Thom was so enthralled with his own story, he didn't notice that Alanna was not surprised. She had no intention of correcting her twin. If Jonathan wasn't talking about it, she didn't want others to know she had done the same. Besides, her brother had just started speaking civilly to her, correcting him now would set them back.

The male redhead was explaining why her spell had worked where his had not, but she wasn't really listening anymore. Magical theory had always scared more than intrigued her. The recent brush with death had not soothed those fears. Thom thrived on magic.

"I need to go, or I will be late for dinner service. Do you want to see if you can join the pages and squires for supper?"

"I think that would be a little too much for me tonight. Don't worry about me; I'll figure out something."

"You always do."

Alanna relaxed into his sudden hug, glad their earlier awkwardness was over. "Alright, hurry on with you."

"When I get back, we can spend some time catching up."

"If someone wasn't so terrible as writing to their sister, we wouldn't have so much ground to cover." She looked at him pointedly as he straightened his hair.

"Yes, but then what would we have to talk about now?" His rueful smile did not save him from a punch in the arm, but he didn't flinch like he used to.

Any sadness she felt at this fact was replaced as he looked back at her one last time before scurrying off. "I missed you."

Of course, now she had to figure out what she was going to do with her evening. She could beg dinner from a servant, but that would leave her alone in the room again. The archery court might still be available, but the sun would set soon. Besides, her arms already felt heavy from their work today.

Her eyes fell on the note that George had sent with her clothes. He had said _any_ time. She wasn't concerned he might be worried about her, but things had been so rushed to see Thom, she realized she had never even thanked the man for for his help. Who knew what would happen to her next? While she could, she had better go say a proper thank you.

She needed just as much help getting to the stables as she had getting to the practice yard, but the palace staff helped her without complaint. Stefan was working again and agreed to let her ride Chubby down to the lower district. He seemed a little distracted, like he needed to do something else, so she didn't keep him busy long.

As he left, he might have been muttering something about nobles, but it was hard to tell with his accent.

The directions she got to the Dancing Dove were easy to follow. Which was good because the city was much recovered after her days asleep. The streets were not packed, but they were definitely busy. Spirits seemed high as people went about their business with smiles.

Temple Way boasted the busiest thoroughfare, but it was a straight shot through there. Alanna felt people might be staring at her a few times as she passed by. Then again, she was a young girl alone in the city with purple eyes. Stares weren't unusual, but it felt a little different this time.

The Dancing Dove brimmed with people; in fact, they spilled out into the streets. Alanna began to worry if she would even be able to find George, but as she tied off Chubby and prayed to the gods he would still be there when she returned, she caught George standing near the entrance with an expectant smile on his face.

The redhead looked around to see if he might be staring at some patron near her, but it definitely looked like he was looking at her. When he indicated with his head that she should come over, Alanna was sure he meant her.

"What took you so long?" His hazel eyes twinkled with amusement at her surprised expression.

"How did you know I was coming?"

"I have ways." The cryptic response irked her, but even with their limited acquaintance, she was sure he wouldn't give her more.

He was giving her that same look people in the palace had been for days. She couldn't demand things from nobles or princes and the servants seemed scared enough of her as it was, but there were no rules of etiquette with George Cooper.

"What is it?"

"Lass, do you know where you are?"

"I got the impression you lived here." She said, as if it explained everything.

"Well, that's true enough…"

"Look George, the note said to come and visit, so I thought I'd come visit." Her stubborn chin stuck out as she spoke. "If I shouldn't have come, just tell me, and I'll head back to the palace."

"Whoa there lass, it's not that I didn't wanna see you." He put a hand on her shoulder and smiled down at her. "It's just we don't get many nobles this time of night. Leastways, not women and definitely none your age."

"Oh… well, I'm already here. We going in or not?" She asked, hoping her bravado covered the fact that she was now rethinking this.

"I'd say ladies first, but it's better I take the lead." He winked before turning into the throng.

Alanna agreed by sticking close behind him. Inside the common area was chaos, but as they passed through, the patrons made way for George, many calling muffled greetings as they passed.

"What's got everyone in such a merry mood?"

"The prince's good health." He sounded like he was smiling, but then, he always seemed to be smiling.

"I guess it's good that he is so well liked."

She watched George's shoulders shrug from behind as they continued on towards the back stairs. Alanna knew from her brief stay they led up to the rooms.

"Folks round here know naught of him. No, what makes 'em happy is stability, and a healthy heir means a healthy kingdom."

She might have tried to defend Jonathan, but they were approached by a well-endowed woman who seemed to command the room as she walked.

"Now Majesty…"

"Majesty?" Alanna repeated the word as a soft inquiry.

"That one seems a little young t' be trotting round with you, unchaperoned. Where'd you pick her up?"

"Rispah, this is Alanna; Alanna, Rispah."

Alanna gave a quick curtsy, which made Rispah smile. Unfortunately, the interaction called the attention of all those in their immediate vicinity. One of the men caught sight of her face and rushed over.

"By the gods, that's her, innit?"

"Alanna and I have some things to discuss. We are not to be disturbed." The redhead still couldn't see his face, but she imagined the smile was gone. His words certainly left no room for argument.

They went the rest of the way to his rooms in silence, but Alanna could feel the eyes of the room on their backs. At this point, she seriously regretted her choice to come tonight, but it wasn't her way to turn tail and run.

"So, you came to save a brother and ended up saving a nation." George's light tone was back, but Alanna did not feel his joviality.

"I didn't save a nation; I saved a boy." George gave her that irritating smile, and she decided to abandon that argument for the real issue. "Who did that man think I was?"

The man sat with a flourish, indicating the seat across the small table, but Alanna obstinately stood. "He thought you were you."

"Do you enjoy being cryptic?" It didn't help her mood that even with him seated, they were about eye level.

"Yes, actually, but this time I meant exactly what I said. Several of the rogues know your brother, so when we heard he was helping save lives in the palace they cheered him on. No one thought much of it. He was just a page, and he didn't save anyone important. Then some girl shows up out of nowhere just in time to save the Prince of Tortall."

Alanna shakily took a seat but did not interrupt him. She was pretty sure she knew how this ended, but she needed to hear it.

"Word spread through the palace while you were sleeping." Alanna sent a silent curse to her brother. "And then that word spread through the city 'til everyone knew a young girl with fiery hair and purple eyes had saved their prince. No one seems to know which god to thank, but they are all sure you were sent here for a reason."

Alanna's head was in her hands. Things were spiralling out of control before her very eyes. Myles had mentioned the story might have spread, but she assumed it was an overstatement. She didn't want to be known; she certainly didn't want people thinking she was some instrument of the gods. She just wanted to get out of this without being stripped of her title or exiled, but now everyone knew she had touted the principles on which their society was founded.

"Buck up, lass. What's done is done. 'Sides, it can only help you during your audience with the king and queen tomorrow."

"My what?"

* * *

 _A/N: I actually find it a little hard to write Thom and Alanna's interactions, but I don't hate this one. Hopefully, my hesitations will work themselves out as their relationship progresses._


	9. The Future Unfolds

_A/N: Sorry it is a short chapter, but I wanted to get something out to you guys! Hope you like it!_

* * *

The rest of the night passed in a haze. Alanna was sure that she and George had talked about other things, but she couldn't remember what. He had walked her back through the Temple district before leaving her, and the redhead was thankful when Stefan was there to take charge of Chubby.

After the pages' supper finished, Thom brought official word of her summons. He looked as grim as she felt. Any attempts at conversation fell flat, after that. The twins turned in early rather than trudge through niceties.

The next morning dawned too bright for Alanna's mood. Feeling guilty for the inconvenience, she begged a breakfast from the servant who brought the water for them to wash up. Thom had invited her to take breakfast with the pages, but she wasn't even sure if that was allowed. Besides, she could not face Prince Jonathan or Thom's friends without first knowing her fate.

Either Thom understood how she felt, or he didn't want to try and argue the point with her because he simply hugged her and wished her good luck before going on to his own breakfast.

The audience was, at least, not in the throne room. Instead, she stood inside of a large rectangular chamber, which she has been informed was the council room. The king and queen both sat at the head of the table looking at some documents in front of them, but she was surprised to see Duke Baird sitting to the left of the queen, looking no better, despite the fact that no new cases had arisen since the prince.

Alanna knew Queen Lianne had also contracted the illness, so perhaps he was there for her. The queen certainly did not look well. In fact, though her son had recovered just the other day, he already had more color back than his mother. Had she always been a frail woman?

No one addressed her when she curtsied in greeting, so the redhead stood silently with her hands clasped behind her back, studying the grain of the wood on the table.

When King Roald finally did speak, Alanna's head only dropped farther down.

"You know why you are here." It wasn't a question, but she answered anyway.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"We have already written to the First Daughter to let her know that you will be returning to the convent in a few days time, but there are options before you now…"

Alanna's head shot up at his words.

"The convent, Your Majesty?" It probably should have struck her that she just interrupted the ruler of her nation, but his words were so confusing she needed more explanation. "Then, I'm not to be exiled?"

"Exiled?" The queen hid a delicate smile behind her hand, but the king chuckled as he continued. "No, my dear, we tend to save exile for criminals, not those who save our son's life. Baird has already told us that Jonathan would not have lasted the night, had you not appeared."

His words sounded eerily like something George had said the night before. The girl found herself looking back and forth between the three adults in the room. Part of her knew she should respond in some gracious manner, but it was a lot to rethink.

"We did give our assurances to the First Daughter that there would not be a repeat performance of your cross country trek." Queen Lianne's voice strained across the room.

"Can we have your promise on that? We did mention that your visions should be given more consideration in the future."

Alanna cringed a little at the word visions,as if they were a daily occurrence, but found herself nodding empathically despite it. "Of course, Your Majesties."

"Now, as I was saying," his pointed look was not lost on her this time, "you have some options now that you might not realize. Queenscove has joined us to explain what he proposes. Duke?"

"Thank you, Majesty."

Alanna turned her full attention to the duke, who suddenly looked very solemn. His hands tented in front of him, fingers drumming against each other. The older man considered her a moment longer before he finally spoke to her.

"When your brother came forward during the beginning of the Sweating Sickness, I quickly realized that, had he gone to the City of the Gods instead of going for knighthood, he would have been a great mage. He might have even rivaled Duke Roger."

The redhead prayed the palace's chief healer had not said as much to Thom. Her brother already knew he could have been good, but to hear that kind of praise from such a man as Duke Baird would only make him regret his situation all the more.

"Imagine my surprise when he has a twin sister, who is just as powerful."

She opened her mouth to correct him but closed it again when he arched an eyebrow at her.

"Good, as you know, most mages train at the City of the Gods until they pass the Ordeal of Sorcery. However, what you may not know is that this is often not true for healers. They start off in the City, but then move to apprenticeships once they learn the basics of control and magical theory. The best way to learn how to heal is by doing it."

Alanna found herself nodding. The duke was correct; she had not known that, but it did make perfect sense. However, she was still a little confused as to why he was explaining this to her.

"Now, listen quietly to every part of this proposition. In fact, I refuse to accept an answer from you today; this is something you need to consider fully."

He took a deep breath and began again.

"If you are willing to be my apprentice," he paused as her mouth tried to make sounds, but when it was obvious she would get nothing intelligible out, he continued, "you will return to train with the Daughters for another year. Being a palace healer requires you to have a firm knowledge of how to deal with nobles. You have shown me that you are willing to go to great lengths to save lives, but you have also demonstrated your own brashness. I will be checking in with the Daughters to ensure I am not bringing myself a headache rather than a capable healer."

She nodded with a little less enthusiasm.

"After the year, the young noblemen who are being trained at the convent will move on to the monks. You will follow them then."

This part sounded better. She had always gotten along better with boys than with girls.

"This will not be easy." Her eyes widened in surprise; had he heard her thoughts? "Only nobles may train at the City of the Gods, so you will likely be the only girl in training. Most noblewomen only learn as much as they need to control their Gift. The other boys may not take kindly to your intrusion. However, you already know a good bit of control, so I think a year of magical theory should suffice. If you do well in your studies, you can then return to Corus for your apprenticeship to me."

Alanna thought that was the end of his speech, but she was wrong.

"Do not think that palace healers have it easy here in the capital only dealing with sniffles and hunting injuries. We go wherever people are sick, hurt dying, whether that is a remote village without so much as a proper well to draw water from or the battlefield."

The king made a disparaging sound at that comment, but his wife put a hand on his arm before he could speak up.

"Baird, are you trying to scare the poor girl?" The queen looked at Alanna with what was probably meant to be a reassuring smile.

"As a matter-of-fact, yes. I have known noblewomen who tried to be healers before. Commoners do well enough, but the highborn thought it would be easier or a good way to catch a husband. I will not waste my time on a student like that."

"Then why make the offer in the first place?" The king smiled, but his teeth were clenched when he spoke.

"Because hers would be a terrible Gift to waste."

"So there you have it. If you still wish to become a lady of the Court, no one," Queen Lianne looked pointed at Duke Baird, "will think less of you."

"But if you want to put your Gift to good use," the healer added, "you can come to Corus and learn under me. You could always try to find someone else to train under, but most noble boys your age already have their apprenticeship settled."

Alanna found herself extremely grateful that the duke did not want an immediate answer. Her mind still swam with the fact that she was not being punished, so she couldn't possibly decide what to do with the rest of her life. She needed time to think it over.

The king spoke in the silence that followed. "For now, you can continue to stay with your brother, and Sir Myles has offered his table for dinner service. At week's end, an escort will take you back to the convent and whatever life you choose from there."

"Yes, your Majesty." She stood there a moment longer before she realized it had been a dismissal. Alanna made it calmly out of the door before hitting the hallways at a run. She didn't even stop of directions, she would find her way eventually.

* * *

Her aim had been to make it outside, but she had settled for her brother's room rather than ask for help. She thought about dramatically flopping onto the bed but the nervous energy that ran through her body would not allow such idleness. Instead, she paced.. Any lady would be happy to return to the convent, and any healer would have considered losing a limb to work with Duke Baird. What did she want?

She had readily agreed to return to the convent, mostly because it still seemed like the only viable option for her.. Even now, she knew enough to realize it would be a hard life for her without staying at the convent until she was of age. First Daughter Satinder had clearly laid that out.

However, her ability to survive the convent had always been with the understanding that she could just attend. Now, not only would the First Daughter probably be looking for any excuse to have her kicked out but Duke Baird also wanted her to do well. Could she actually put effort into dancing and embroidery?

Which brought her to the second part of the conundrum, she had certainly considered training to be a mage in the past. Only, the idea always meant an escape from the tedious life of a nobleman's wife in the past. Alanna had never actually thought about what she would do as a mage. The duke's offer was something different, something specific.

If she took his offer, it meant she would have to truly try to use her powers, not just learn some principles of magic and hope for an easy ordeal. She managed to save the prince but had literally met Death in the process. Could she wield that kind of power every day?

A commanding knock interrupted her introspection. Prince Jonathan stood in the doorway when she answered. He looked at her expectantly as she stared back.

"Ready?" He finally asked, but the utter lack of understanding shown clearly on her face. "Don't tell me you've given up on sword lessons already. I've heard girls are flighty, but it's only been a day."

"I haven't given up." The prince smiled at her defensive tone. "I just forgot you had agreed to it, Your Highness."

'Well, are you ready or not? And I thought we had agreed on something less formal."

She had planned to be alone for a while, but maybe this could serve as a welcome distraction. Besides, she would be leaving the capital in less than a week's time. If she didn't learn something now, she might never have the chance.

"I'm ready, Jonathan..." She hadn't known the boy long, and suddenly calling him by his first name felt awkward.

Prince Jonathan led her to a tiny indoor practice court, where a rack of wooden swords awaited them.

"Just so you know, this isn't the way it is normally done. Your brother hasn't even started to learn swords yet."

"Then could you not mention this to him? He doesn't like feeling left behind."

The prince nodded, adding. "It will be our secret, not sure how the other pages would react. Now, as I was saying, typically, you would have learned all sorts of other fighting techniques before you even touch a sword, then go through the forging of one."

"We only have a few days!"

'Which is why we are skipping all that, now pick out a practice sword."

Alanna did as she was told, keeping in her disappointment that they were wooden. Still, she was surprised by the weight of it; it was obviously crafted to withstand blundering new swordsmen. After finding one that had a good grip still, she returned to the prince.

"Okay, let's work on your stance first, like we did with the bow yesterday."

Alanna had always believed herself to be something of a natural. She hunted as well as any man at Trebond, welded a mean knife, always had good aim, but after an hour with the prince, she called all that into question. Nothing about the sword felt natural. Prince Jonathan kept moving her legs back into position or changing her grip. It was just like the archery range, only so much worse. She felt every bit the dancing bear Coram had always joked about her becoming.

Her royal instructor tried hard to hold it together, but the teenage prince must have used up all his patience the day before. Maybe after seeing her with a bow, he thought this would go smoothly. In which case, they were both disappointed.

"No one becomes a master in a day." He told her while she nursed fingers that had been uncalloused for too long. They hadn't actually traded a single blow, focusing instead on the stances of each strike, but she still felt defeated.

"I think that is enough for today."

Alanna returned her sword to the rack slowly, not even wanting to make eye contact with the prince.

"Try again tomorrow?"

"If you're sure you want to."

"A prince should be a man of his word."

It was impossible to tell if his wry smile was at other promises he had made or regret over this one, and part of her wanted to release him from his bond. However, the larger part of her was just sure she would do better tomorrow. She couldn't possibly get worse.

* * *

Unfortunately, the training, if what she had done could be called training, had done nothing to ease her mind. If anything, it left her more agitated that before. By the time she was ready to attend her first dinner service with Sir Myles, her thoughts churned just as wildly as they had that morning.

Alanna contemplated bowing out of dinner completely; she wasn't even hungry. If only Sir Myles hadn't shown up to escort her, she would have sent a note through her brother, but there was something so kind about the man. The redhead couldn't say no.

As they walked, the knight spoke companionably about his students, mainly Thom. The twin hadn't been sure any adult could like Thom (he tended to challenge authority), so it was nice to hear not unfavorable comments. When they made it to the dining hall, she realized she had relaxed considerably, that was, until they opened the double doors for the knight and his charge.

Alanna had been in the castle for several days now, so she knew the vast number of inhabitants. However, she had not seen them all gathered in one room. It was a sea of faces, and the girl could practically see her name passing through the ranks as table after table turned towards her. For not the last time, she cursed her brother's big mouth.

"This way, dear." She allowed Sir Myles' girth to shield her from the room as they moved towards his table. "Your Highness, Lady Sebila, this is a surprise."

The indicated parties nodded in his direction, and the two older gentlemen who sat with them shifted uncomfortably. Alanna wanted to do the same when Lady Sebila's steely grey eyes locked on her.

"I wanted to see what all the fuss was about." The direction that the noblewoman's chin jutted when she spoke led the redhead to believe she was 'the fuss'.

Myles patted her arm reassuringly before pulling out her chair. She breathed a sigh of relief upon realizing she sat between Prince Jonathan and Sir Myles. Maybe, she could make it through this.

"My royal parents thought it might be easier for you, if you had a familiar face your own age." He kept his voice down as the adults exchanged more formal greetings.

"I don't know that easier is the right word, but it was very nice of them to think of me."

"So you shoot and want to learn swords, but you're scared of a dinner party?" He obviously found amusement in this fact.

"Not scared, I just do not enjoy being the center of attention."

"You'll get used to it, I suppose, if you train under Duke Baird."

She cast an eye to the dias Jonathan had nodded towards. On the slightly raised platform sat the king and queen, and right beside the queen sat Duke Baird. Alanna wasn't sure if the young man next to him was his current apprentice, but she did not envy the way those around the room continually focused in towards them. Every cough from the queen brought fresh stares to the duke.

"So, I guess the rumor is true about you, girl."

"What rumors?" Jonathan asked coolly as Alanna tried to keep her heart rate under control.

"That she saved your life. You can hardly deny it; I doubt Your Highness would have joined us otherwise."

"No one denied it, Sebila." It was Sir Myles who spoke up for her this time. "You simply didn't give anyone the chance to answer."

"Yes, yes, Myles, no need to take up arms, just making conversation." The light reprimand hardly slowed her down. "Healing isn't bad, you know, for a woman, helps with birthing."

"It didn't help my mother." The tiny redhead informed the woman matter-of-factly.

The rest of the table visibly blanched, but Lady Sebila did not so much as falter.

"Then does your father have any understandings with another family?"

"Understandings?"

"Are you pledged in marriage?" Lady Sebila looked between Alanna and Prince Jonathan.

"Gods above no, I'm only eleven. Besides, my father is too enamored with his studies to even think about that." She began to down the juice in front of her as Jonathan shook his head with a smile.

"Good, it is never too early to settle these matters, and I have a great-nephew who is in need of a wife." Liquid spewed from Alanna's lips, leaving a pattern of purple dots fanned out in front of her on the tablecloth.

Sir Myles pounded the redhead on the back as she tried to wave him off. Thom worked to cleanup what he could while holding in his laughter. Prince Jonathan quickly abandoned that battle, and the rest of the table seemed unsure of whether to join their prince's mirth or Lady Sebila's disdain.

When the cacophony died down, Alanna finally felt enough in control of herself to respond.

"Actually, Lady Sebila, I do not intend to marry at all."

"That is preposterous!" The younger girl had never seen eyebrows reach such heights. "All ladies marry, even lady mages."

The lady started off on a rant, but Alanna was no longer paying attention to her. Thom had accidentally caught her attention. Her brother's annoyed expression had nothing to do with the debacle she had caused. He kept looking across the room and shaking his head.

"My wounded pride is somewhat healed to know you react that way to all talk of marriage."

"Who's that?" Alanna asked Jonathan, indicating a very tall boy, who was in silent communication with her twin.

As if Jonathan looking over was some sort of signal, the dark-haired youth locked eyes with Alanna and mouthed "sorry" as clearly as he could.

"That would be the great-nephew, Sir Raoul of Goldenlake." The redhead felt her face beginning to match her hair. "He may not look it, but he can be very sensitive. Should the contents of Lady Sebila's discussion with you be brought up, please have the good grace not to laugh at him. Not all men can take that kind of rejection."

"Neither was an actual proposal, and don't _you_ think you're a little too young to worry about such things?"

"Of course, _I_ do, but if you think great-aunts are bad, you should hear kings and queens. When you return to court, you will understand. If you aren't betrothed or married, mothers or eligible husbands will always be after you."

"Girl, are you even listening to me?"

This might have been the longest dinner of Alanna's night, and they hadn't even served the first course.

* * *

That night, Alanna lay in the small bed in the antechamber of her brother's rooms. Coram would have slept here while he was at the palace. In another life, perhaps he still would have been here with her. When Thom exited his bedchamber, she still stared at the ceiling, thoughts of her evening buzzing around her head like a gnat.

"Hearing Lady Sebila talk to you got me thinking."

Oddly enough, it wasn't Lady Sebila's comments that had her reeling but the prince's. The lady annoyed Alanna, of course, but Jonathan made it seem like this would be an everyday occurrence until she succumbed. It was not a life to which she looked forward.

Her brother was waiting on a response. "You're always thinking, Thom."

She could barely make out his smile in the moonlight from the window. "True enough, but I was thinking that Lord Alan," he always referred to their father by his name, "cannot live forever."

"Yes, Thom, is there a point here? I am tired."

"When he dies, I'll be Lord of Trebond, and he will no longer hold sway over our lives. I can't make you a knight, but I can give you a home. There won't be any dinner parties or mothers with eligible sons, just the woods of Trebond."

Alanna listened in silence as he started to paint a new picture for her. It was an option no one had given her before; she could go home.

"If you decide you want to heal, you could always take over for Maude. She isn't getting any younger. I have never wanted to run a fief; you could do that for me. The people like you more, anyway. It would be good for both of us."

Their family life might not have been all that one would hope for, but Trebond was her home. Thom was right; it wasn't the knighthood she had always dreamed of, but it would be an easy life. She could continue to do as she pleased at the convent. It might mean suffering as a lady for a few years, but if she could just wait it out, she could be free of responsibility except to the fief. It felt a little cold to think of her father's death in such terms, but she pushed the feeling away.

"Thank you, Thom."

"All we have is each other." He said ruefully, already retreating back to his room.

"I know." She whispered to the closing door.

* * *

 _A/N: Duke Baird's speech might be a little out of character for him, but I imagine that he would be very serious when picking an apprentice. I liked the kind of "scared straight" approach because he only wants someone he knows is going to be just as serious about it as he is._


	10. Alternate Endings

_A/N: Don't hate me!_

* * *

"Are you always this distracted?" The prince asked when Alanna failed to block a particularly slow strike for the third time.

"No." She replied with open honesty.

Her plain answer stayed the joke about distracting proposals that was on the tip of Jonathan's tongue.

"Everything alright?"

"I'm just tired." This statement didn't ring true, but the prince didn't push for more information.

She certainly was tired; in her nightmares the night before, the walls of her father's study closed in around her like a tomb, smothering her with parchments and tomes. However, she was equally as disappointed to find she had been wrong yesterday. She _could_ get worse, much worse. Her ill-used muscles remembered nothing of the stances and angrily refused to cooperate.

Prince Jonathan's suggestion to trade blows, so she could see how the strikes connected, resulted only in a bruised finger when her mind was elsewhere.

"Should we take a break for now?"

The redhead nodded, unwilling to give verbal admittance of defeat. Jonathan sat on one of the benches along the wall of the small practice court and invited his student to join.

"My parents," Jonathan spoke so casually of the king and queen of Tortall, "have decided that having you join the state dinner might have been a mistake. They had not anticipated the attention your presence would garner."

Alanna got the feeling that last part was a direct quote, from the studied way he recited it and the quirk of his lip at the end.

"I appreciate that." The girl had fully intended to starve rather than face another dinner with Lady Sebila. "I can just take meals in my room."

"I suggested that you take dinner with the trainees. You are our age, and everyone already knows Thom. So, you will eat with us tonight." It felt less like an invitation and more like a command. The boy obviously expected his words to be obeyed.

"Yes, Highness."

"Jon."

"Jonathan."

She could make it through a dinner with the knights-in-training. It might be the last time she ever saw some of them.

Alanna had been expanding on Thom's plan, and she thought that, perhaps, she could avoid the capital altogether. Her father had sent them away more to get them out of his hair than because it was the traditional role of a son and daughter, though that certainly played a part in where he sent Thom.

When she finished her time at the convent, all she had to do was go back to Trebond and prove she was not a nuisance, an easier task to accomplish with her twin safely in Corus. From what she knew, sending a daughter off to court was a lot more of a hassle than sending her to the convent. As an adult, Lord Alan couldn't just write a letter and entrust her to someone. Clothing, living quarters, a dowry, the list of arrangements required went on and on.

Combined with his reluctance to focus on anything besides his scholarly works, she could stall coming to Corus indefinitely.

"Ready to try again?"

Alanna nodded with resignation. Even if she was terrible, she would make the most of her time here.

* * *

"Alanna!" George greeted her warmly as she walked through the door to the Dancing Dove. "It does my heart good to see you and at such a reasonable time of day."

He gave her a wink, but she waved him off, already becoming accustomed to his antics.

"Good afternoon, George."

"Solom, bring the lady some juice."

Without so much as a head nod, they sat down at one of the many empty tables. The inn felt livelier at night, but a few patrons lazed about place. Still, lady and the thief were relatively alone in their section of the room.

"What brings you to see the likes o' me?"

"I came to say thank you. It seems every time I see you; there is something else going on, and I keep forgetting. I appreciate all you did for me; I'm not sure what would have happened if I hadn't ended up here that first night in Corus, but I'll always be grateful for your help…"

"It was my pleasure, lass." He gave her a genuine smile that made his hazel eyes twinkle. "And what else?"

She returned a sheepish smile of her own; he knew she had more to say. "I also wanted to say good-bye. I'll be leaving the day after tomorrow, and I'm not sure if I will have time to see you again. Although it hasn't been long, it was nice to have met you."

"You make it sound so final. Even if you're daft enough not to take the Duke's offer, you'll be back once you're done becoming a proper lady and all. I plan to be sitting round here for a good, long time."

"I don't plan to return Corus at all."

"Training on your own as a mage then going off on some grand adventure?" He asked her knowingly.

"What? No."

"Then speak Common, girl. What are you doing?"

"I'll finish at the convent, then retire to Trebond."

Solom returned with juice for her and something that looked like ale for George, but the older boy only stared at her. At first, he had smiled as if he thought she was joking, but Alanna watched his expression change.

"You'll just stay at Trebond?"

"Yes, Thom brought it up." She felt compelled to further explain given the odd expression on George's face. "I don't want to become a lady, not really, so if I stay at home, I won't have to worry about court functions or meddling great aunts. I don't want to be a mage either; it's too much power. Thom enjoys that sort of thing, not me."

"How'll you marry?"

"That's one of the best parts; I won't have to with Thom's support."

He paused for a moment.

"Let's assume that your notions on that count don't change," she gave him a look that made it clear they wouldn't, "what about friendship?"

"I have Coram…"

"A man old enough to be your father." George interjected. Thom spoke of the old soldier sometimes.

"And the people of Trebond like me." She took a sip of her lemonade to steady herself and break George's intense gaze.

"No, they respect you. Lords and Ladies cannot have friendships with their commoners."

"You and I get along fine." The redhead informed him with indignation.

"True, but I'm not your subject. We're on equal footing, as it were."

The truth of his statement stopped her only for a moment. "I don't need friends."

"So you say, lass, but you certainly need a purpose."

"I'll have one. Once father passes away, Thom has asked me to help him run the fief."

"Oh, aye? I'm sure the future Lady of Trebond won't mind that at all."

"What are you going on about now?" Exasperation colored her voice.

"Well, you may not plan to marry, but Thom will need to as heir. When he brings his new bride home, do you think she will be happy to find that her sister-in-law is already situated as lady of the house?"

"I could step aside for her." Her resolve wavered with her voice.

"And do what? Hunt and read until the end of your days? Even if you could be so aimless, your people will still look to you after you have taken care of the estate for so many years." His lip curled up in derision. "At best, you would be like her well-meaning but unbearable mother-in-law, only you won't die off anytime soon."

"Why are you doing this?" She almost felt like crying as this short lived dream quickly became a nightmare.

George's tone softened. "I'm not trying to be cruel. Thom probably thought he'd your best interest at heart when he made the suggestion, but he told you what you wanted to hear, not what you needed to hear."

"And you think _you_ know what I need, George Cooper?" Alanna fell back to anger.

"I know enough to realize no girl who dreamed of being a knight could stay cooped up in her fief. I also know, if she can hold her own against the priests of the Black God, that girl can probably stand up to some unwanted marriage proposals."

"Because being an unmarried court lady is so much better than being at my own fief?"

"I never said you should be a court lady. It'd suffocate you as surely as the walls of Trebond."

A shiver ran down Alanna's spine as she remembered her nightmares the night before.

"What would you have me do then?"

The thief quirked an eyebrow at her, as if she should already know the answer. And she did; she just didn't like it.

"I already told you; I don't want to be a mage! It's too much power and responsibility."

"And what is being a knight, if not power and responsibility?" Alanna tested even George's usually unwavering patience.

"That's different! Anyone can learn to fight, not everyone has the Gift."

"And not everyone has the means to train with masters or afford armor and weapons. Life doesn't cast equal lots to all. Did ya think you'd only ever be fightin' those at your own skill level? Leastways as a healer, you could use your Gift to help others."

The redhead opened her mouth to retort but realized she had no excuses or arguments left save her own fear.

George read the dismay in her eyes. "There's nothing wrong with being afraid of power, lass. It keeps you honest and means you'll respect the Gift. You brother has no fear, and the gods only know what havoc he will wreak on us some day."

Alanna laughed in spite of herself.

"There you go, lass. I'm not saying make your decision just yet, but promise me you'll think on it."

"I always leave the Dancing Dove with more to think of than when I arrived."

"So it must seem."

* * *

It was almost time for dinner service when Alanna returned to the palace. In spite of a head swimming with indecision, the redhead still felt better for her time with George. Loathe though she was to admit it, he made good points.

Her musings on how well he already seemed to understand her were interrupted by the unexpected sight of Sir Myles standing at her brother's door. The page had no doubt left already to prepare for service.

"Sir Myles, were you not informed? I am to dine with the pages tonight." She felt bad the older gentleman had been waiting on her.

"Do not fret, Lady Alanna; their Majesties made me aware and too right they were." He waved his hand as if dismissing some unspoken argument. "Nevermind that now, I have something else to discuss with you."

"Of course, would you like to come in?" Her convent training said she should offer tea or a refreshment, but she had neither available. She settled for offering him the only chair in the room while she took the bed.

"Did you know Barony Olau is located only a few days ride from Corus." He jumped right in. "It is actually on the road towards the City of the Gods, so you probably passed right by it without even knowing it."

Alanna cringed ever so slightly at the reminder of her cross country jaunt. "I was not aware."

"It's a pretty sight really, though I may be a little biased. We are far enough from sea and the border that it was not built for defense, so we have some wonderful views of the countryside." The knight abandoned his seat to pace around the room. Was he anxious to get to dinner? "And we have some ruins from the Ancient Ones."

"Really? Her interest piqued.

"Oh yes, I've been studying them for years. Would you like to see them?"

Alanna was taken aback by the sudden offer. Why had he even brought them up so unexpectedly? Alanna thought she had dealt with her brother's teacher enough to know this was odd behaviour, even for the peculiar knight.

"I would." The redhead finally replied with hesitation.

"Very good! Well, I must be off before dinner service begins without me." He bid her farewell and left the room in a hurry, leaving a thoroughly confused young lady.

* * *

Thom came to retrieve Alanna for dinner. The pages ate much later than Alanna was accustomed to, so even though she was a little nervous about eating with the trainees, her hunger outweighed her trepidation.

Of course, she heard the whispers as she entered the hall behind Thom. The pages and squires rarely hosted girls for dinner. The redhead tailed her twin like a colorful shadow, concentrating very hard on the food. As far as the spread was concerned, she thought the boys had a much better selection than the convent, but then, they probably wanted the ladies to stay skinny. Maude had always said growing boys needed their food, though Thom had never bulked up despite what he might eat.

"Come join us." Alanna heard the familiar voice cut through the chatter of the room.

"Was that a command or a request?" Thom quietly asked his sister.

Alanna just shrugged. She could hardly tell with the prince. "Does it matter?"

Thom huffed but made his way over to the crowded table without further protest. The boys stood practically in unison as they approached.

"By the gods, there's two of him!"

Thom rolled his eyes at the boy that looked about their age. "That is generally what is meant by 'twins'."

"You'll have to excuse Geoffrey, I'm afraid." A slender, dark boy spoke from the other side of the table. "He was hidden in the kitchen the other night and had not seen you yet."

"I'm used to it." The nonchalance with which she spoke made it clear the redhead wasn't saying so to be nice.

"Alanna," Thom began with a bored tone, "that is Geoffrey of Meron; Alexander of Tirragen; Gareth of Naxen, my sponsor; His Highness, you know; and Raoul of Goldenlake."

"Gary, Alex, and Raoul are squires now, but they deign to sup with us."

Alanna bobbed a perfunctory curtsy. She had never much enjoyed attention, and they were all watching her now. In fact, no one was moving; they all stood there staring. All except Raoul, he looked everywhere in the room besides her.

"Alanna, why don't you sit next to me so everyone can get back to their meal?" She could hear the smile in Jonathan's voice.

How could she forget that she was with pages and squires? Just as she had been taught to wait until her seat was pulled out for her, as it was obviously too heavy to do so herself, these boys had been drilled that you do not sit until all ladies in the group were seated. She could have laughed at the absurdity, but she kept it in.

"Thank you, Highness."

The prince raised his eyebrows at the formal title, but she gave him look for look. It was one thing to call him by his name when they were in private; it was quite another in front of fellow nobles. Most of the boys missed the silent exchange as they regained their seats, but Thom scowled.

"So Lady Alanna, I hope you are a better dinner partner than my sponsee." The boy was biggest, though not the biggest at the table, with a jovial smile on his face and some mischief in his chestnut brown eyes.

"I'm not."

Silence reigned for a moment before the table erupted with laughter. Alanna looked at Thom questioningly, but he seemed much more interested in his food than the conversation.

"I told you she is as blunt as Thom."

"It's uncanny." Gareth studied her in the way she was becoming all too familiar with. "They could be the same person, if not for the clothes."

Thom did sneak her a smile on that one. These boys had no idea how close they had come to meeting Alan instead of Thom.

"She's a better shot than he is." The prince goaded the other page, which set Thom scowling again.

"That wouldn't take much." The brunette boy quipped. Alanna's poor brother was clearly not enjoying this new line of conversation.

"Thom's always been better with magic." She stated in defense of her twin.

Raoul spoke up, though she wished he hadn't. "We know."

Thom had helped take care of the curly haired youth when Raoul fell ill, like so many of the squires and pages. Everyone sobered up at the gentle reminder of the Sweating Sickness. From what her brother said, the page that died had been a member of this group.

"Yes, of course."

The mage twin was relieved when the conversation naturally picked back up and did not require anything from her. It made her a little sad as well, though. The topics, with the exception of a brief discussion on mathematics, interested her in a way no conversation at the convent ever had. Cyth was nice, but she was still a girl. No one in the City of the Gods spoke of weapons, battles, or the proper bow for hunting.

Dinner ended before she was ready for it to, but the pages and squires looked tired. With classes resumed, they were all busy again. She took her tray with the rest of them, smiling at some joke Gary had made, when Raoul touched her arm and signaled her back.

She had to wait for a minute before he finally spoke, dark eyes studying the floor. "Sorry about earlier, Francis was a good friend."

"I was very sorry to hear about your loss."

"It means a lot to us that Thom tried so hard to save him."

Alanna nodded sympathetically, completely out of her depth. She might have walked away, but he looked like he had more to say.

"I also wanted to apologize about my great aunt…" He seemed uncertain of how to finish that sentence.

"No need for apologies there." She stopped him before it could become any more awkward, then remembered Jonathan's words about Raoul's feelings. Seeing him now, she knew he had been serious. "I already explained to her I do not intend to marry."

"Really?!" He sounded disbelieving, not hurt, so that was a relief.

"Yes, besides, someone tells me these sorts of things are to be expected at court."

The prince, who was now within earshot smiled knowingly.

"I think most girls like getting marriage proposals." Raoul looked unsure on the point.

"Not me. Which is why I don't know that I'll be returning to court." She hadn't really intended to mention it, but this was better. Now, she could say a proper good-bye to the Prince. "When the time comes, I am going to return to Trebond."

A very undignified sound came from the heir's direction.

"Did you just snort, Jon?" Apparently, the group decided the private portion of the conversation was over because Gary rejoined them as well with Thom close behind.

"It won't work." He assured her.

Thom piped in. "And why not?"

"She didn't last a day in her rooms after waking up from healing me before she was out looking for something to do. I give her two months at most before she is searching for some new challenge. You might not stay at court, but you won't be able to stay at your fief, either."

Her twin did not look happy about the pronouncement. Jon's words sounded so much like George's, and they rang just as true. Looking at her mirror image, she began to wonder if these two new boys knew her better than her own brother.

* * *

 _A/N: Originally, this was supposed to be longer, but I wanted to prove to you all that I have not given up on this story. I have, however, had a baby, so updates will probably continue to be sporadic. Make sure that you set up notifications for the story, so you'll know when I pull myself away from dimples and diapers to post something!_

 _P.S. Reviews usually spur me to write a little, so the more you write to me, the faster I get a chapter out!_


	11. The Enemy of My Friend is My

_A/N: Sorry for the awkward break in the timeline here. In my hurry to get content out to you all last time, I didn't really think through where I was breaking the chapter. There should have been at least two more scenes that do not fit at all on the beginning of this chapter. Neither really moved the plotline along, at least not in anyway that I can't cover in the new scenes, so I am leaving them out._

 _As I believe I have mentioned before, I do not wish to rewrite scenes that remain materially the same despite the convent twist. So, if I omit a scene, just imagine it going exactly the way it occurred only with Alanna in a dress and some different pronouns. If I could write it better than Pierce did originally, I wouldn't be sitting here writing fanfics… Which reminds me: All familiar plot lines, characters, scenes, or dialogue is the sole property of Tamora Pierce and not used for profit._

 _And now the plot thickens! Enjoy!_

* * *

It was already late in the afternoon when Alanna was once again ushered into the room she hated above all rooms. Not a single pleasant experience had occurred within its walls, and that fact would probably not change today. The young lady had dreaded this meeting as soon as she made the decision to return to the convent. Now, it took a solid ten minutes before the First Daughter broke the silence in her office.

"So, by the goodwill of their Majesties, you've returned." First Daughter Satinder did not even deign to look up at her.

"Yes, First Daughter."

Silence reigned again while Alanna shifted uncomfortably, hands tightly fisted behind her back.

"And _I_ am meant to welcome the returning hero with open arms?"

For once, she held her tongue. Dislike it though she might here, the king and queen must have put some effort into getting her back in the convent, considering the obvious disdain the First Daughter had for her. She would not waste their show of good faith by getting herself kicked out the first day back... not if she could help it, anyway.

"Let me make myself perfectly clear," the older woman said as if she was usually one to mince words, "if you so much as sniffle in an unladylike manner during the year you have left with us, you will be out of this convent faster than you can say 'Goddess bless', and the monarchs will just have to find somewhere else to meddle."

"Yes, First Daughter." The priestess's statement smacked of both blasphemy and treason, but Satinder's current glare looked like a dare to retort. Better to stay silent.

"Duke Baird, apparently, believes you will make a great healer someday."The First Daughter paused, in case Alanna missed the disbelief in her tone but started again when Alanna did not take the bait. "I doubt it. Gifted or not, you lack the resolve to make anything of your life. I suspect we will be saying our farewells soon enough, Lady Alanna."

The redhead's jaw hurt, it was clenched so tight, but she kept quiet.

"You are dismissed."

"Yes, First Daughter."

The fiery young woman bristled at Satinder's unanswered barbs. She would show the First Daughter! The thought made her pause as she walked back to her rooms. Would she prove the priestess wrong? When George and then Jonathan had dashed Thom's plan to pieces, Alanna avoided the decision altogther. Being in Corus so far from the City of the Gods, it had been easy to ignore.

Now, she realized, she had unconsciously made her choice somewhere along the way. Was it when she recognized she couldn't actually stay cooped up at Fief Trebond? Or maybe was it when she faced death in the ruins at Olau and some strange magic had saved her?

Whenever it was, she knew now: she would train to be a mage.

* * *

Alanna quickly finished unpacking her few new items and sat in her dormitory staring once again at her sword. Everything that had happened since she made her midnight escape to Corus might have all been a dream, if it weren't for the sword… well, swords.

Prince Jonathan had bestowed a dull edged practice sword upon her before she, quite unexpectedly, left the capital with Sir Myles. Of course, the older gentleman had mentioned her visiting during their strange conversation in Thom's room, but he had not told her it would be on her way back to the convent. Honestly, the people around her were impossible to understand. The prince of Tortall gave her gifts and a knight escorted her around his land like some local guide. He even let her keep the sword she had found in _his_ ruins. At least the crotchety First Daughter still acted at Alanna expected.

A knock at the door interrupted any further musings.

"She let you stay?" Cythera of Elden said bursting through the door as soon as Alanna had opened it, pacing the small plot of space left between the tiny desk, bed and chest.

"I believe the king and queen might have said some things on my behalf." The redhead didn't need an explanation to know her friend meant the First Daughter, but she barely had time to shut the door, much less say anything else, before the tall girl had spotted Lightning.

"What's that?"

"Sharp, that's what it is." Alanna picked up the blade before her friend could touch the edge and covered the delicate looking sword and resheathed it. The older girl scowled at the vague answer. "It's just something I found."

"It looks a little expensive to have just been lying around. Still, only you would come back from the capital with weapons." Cyth shook her head before rapidly changing subjects. "Speaking of the palace, Delia is indignant, of course. Not only did you come back, but you saved the prince's life!"

"You heard about that?!" Alanna flopped onto the bed in despair, hands covering her face.

Had the First Daughter spread the news? Alanna might have just arrived back that afternoon, but she knew the palace had communicated with the City of the Gods before she left Corus. On the other hand, it was hard to believe news traveled that fast or that First Daughter Satinder would have mentioned anything to anyone that sounded remotely positive concerning the redhead.

"We've know for a week, at least, from letters. You saved the line of succession; I expect they've heard about it in Carthak by now…" Cyth obviously wasn't impressed with her friend's grimace. "What's the matter now?"

"I don't like people talking about me."

Her tall friend waved away the statement like an annoying gnat, stopping her march around the room right in front of Alanna. "Too late for that now... Tell me what he's like?"

"Who?" The sudden conversational switches were leaving Alanna feeling a little dazed.

"The prince, you dolt!" The older girl had a way of making an insult sound endearing. "Who else could I mean?"

"There are plenty of 'he's' in the capital." Alanna moved on quickly when her defense fell on deaf ears. "Well, he's good with a bow and sword… but he's a little bossy."

The blonde paused in her pacing to stare at her small friend, who apparently wasn't saying these things in jest. "Do me a favor and omit all of that when the other girls ask you. Just remain mysterious with a coy shoulder shrug, if you can't give us anything good."

"The other girls?" Alanna sat up on the bed, dread filling her body.

"What did you expect? You saved the heir to the throne. Your social standing here at the convent is about to take a serious turn for the better." Alanna groaned at the beautiful girl's joy.

Cythera's bright laughter did nothing to dispel the pain from the redhead's own expression.

"Look at it this way: Delia can't afford to be mean to you anymore." The blonde took a moment to rethink her statement. "At least, not to your face."

"Why is that?"

The older girl didn't even spare a sigh. She was used to her short friend missing out on the social cues that were so obvious to everyone else.

"No one wants to be one the bad side of someone Prince Jonathan owes."

"Oh, he doesn't owe me anymore." The matter-of-fact statement piqued Cyth's interest.

"And why not?"

"He taught me the basics of how to use a sword.

"Ugh…" Now, it was Cyth's turn to flop down face first on the narrow bed next to Alanna. Her voice was muffled by the blanket beneath her. "You're hopeless as a court lady."

"I'm going to study with the Mithran priests and then Duke Baird to be a healer." The statement held more confidence than the mage realized she felt.

Her fellow student popped back up at that news. "Noble ladies don't become mages."

"You said yourself, I am hopeless as a lady. I think… I think I could be good as a healer… _do_ good."

After a long pause, Cythera finally spoke. "I think so too. Even if I'll miss you, my blunt little friend."

"I'll have to suffering through another year here, so you have time to get sick of me."

Cyth held up her hand as if she held a goblet. "Then to suffering, and the Lady Mage!"

* * *

Thom walked alongside Gary, returning from another swim where he once again was grateful his sister was safe at the convent and away from naked teenage boys. Ever since her visit, Gary and his group had been including the male twin more and more. Objectively, it might have been a result of his attempts to save their friend, Francis, but the smaller boy had his doubts.

Alanna just had a way of endearing people to her. Coram and Maude had always tolerated him, but they loved Alanna. Even at the convent, where she was doing all she could not to fit in, Alanna had made herself a friend. Thom had never been able to inspire that sort of loyalty.

"So Jon's cousin has finally arrived." Gary's voice called Thom back to the present.

"Duke Roger?!" The redhead barely contained his surprise at seeing the gentleman in question ahead of them. The name came out in a heated whisper.

"I might have overheard that he was coming back to court."

Gary was taken by surprise when the tiny page punched him in the arm, in a very un-Thom-like manner. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I did not realize you had such an interest in Jon's cousin." Gary did not realize Thom had an interest in anyone, really.

"Right! Why would any mage have an interest in the man most consider to be the most powerful sorcerer of our time?" He whispered with a venom that did not seem to affect the large brunette.

"You're a knight, not a mage."

"Well, I could have been one." He mumbled not for the first time, but the other squires and pages were used to Thom's strange antics by now. Gary just waved off his remark.

"Do you want to know what else I heard or not?"

"Of course!" For the most part, Thom still thought Gary was a bit of a know-it-all, but his information about what was happening at the palace was unparalleled among the pages, making him invaluable.

"He's to teach you Gifted ones."

Gary kept walking, shaking his head at the indecipherable little page who stood stock-still in the hall as if from shock. Thom's head was reeling from this bit of news. He was going to learn sorcery! The fact that Duke Roger of Conté would be the one teaching them, however, warranted some further thought.

Thom approached the newly formed group as Jon greeted his cousin. Considering his power and reported breadth of knowledge, the duke was a better teacher than Thom could ever have hoped to find here at the palace. But how would he feel about teaching someone who might one day rival him? Chances were good he would need to hide his full potential.

"And this is Thom of Trebond. Thom, my cousin, Duke Roger of Conté."

"Your Grace." Thom bowed appropriately.

"Please, just Duke Roger." The redhead wasn't surprised to find the man had a pleasant sounding voice; it matched his face. "I would drop the Duke if I could. It makes me feel old."

All the boys laughed, and Thom joined in with a chuckle of his own.

"I look forward to your class." Thom offered when the laughter died away garnering a look from Jonathan.

The prince had worried about introducing his new young friend to Roger at all. Thom hardly spoke to their group of friends, and he spoke to adults only when required. Even then, it was always with that tone that just bordered on insolence.

"I guess the secret is out. Yes, I am to teach you all magecraft. I believe my wandering days are over." Again, Thom joined in the appreciative laughter. "Though, from what I hear, you hardly need my instruction, young Trebond. You must have made quite an impression while helping with the Sweating Sickness."

"Not at all," the redhead mentally kicked himself for having let his desire to perform magic override his usual habit of blending in. "I just helped the healers with what little power I had."

Jon and Gary both looked at the small page. Thom was usually a quiet lad who did not excel in studies of the intellectual or physical nature, but after the Sweating Sickness, they all knew he was good at one thing: magic.

* * *

Thom calmly stood in the hallway outside Duke Roger's office for just another moment to set his mind to rights. Sometimes, he liked to ponder what would happen if his and Alanna's plan to switch had actually worked. No doubt sweat would have soaked through her tunic already. Even if it weren't for the fact that she was a girl, the prospect of being tested for magic by Roger of Conté would have been too much for her. He always dealt with the pesky adults in their lives; Alanna just followed his lead.

Time to fool another one, he thought to himself. The redhead tucked away his smirk as he always did around his teachers. There would be a time for such expressions, but it was not today.

Thom entered the duke's study to find it fully furnished and decorated, as if he had been there years, not a week. The duke sat in a full back chair studying some notes that lay on his desk. He was elegantly dressed and even fiddled with a jeweled rod in one hand.

"Ah yes, Thom, come in."

"Thank you, sir." He took the chair that Roger indicated, head bowed in practiced humility.

"I suppose this is more of a formality, really. We both know you have the Gift, but I had hoped I could talk with you for a moment."

The page did not have to fake surprise at that statement. "You want to talk to me, sir?"

"No need to look so shocked young Trebond; you are an interesting lad."

Thom didn't know whether to be impressed or fearful. Adults had talked at him all his life: his father, Coram, Duke Gareth, even Maude really. None of them had ever talked _with_ him. He blinked away the thought; no matter what he said, Roger would be just like all the others, treating him as you would any child.

"If you say so, Your Grace." He longed to test the other man's mind, find out what he was thinking, but if George could protect himself from Thom's questing, this mage certainly could.

"Where did you learn to heal? And it's Duke Roger, remember?"

Thom gave his best sheepish grin. The duke didn't need to know Thom rarely forgot anything.

"The healing woman in our town taught us all she knew." And I have continued some self-study, he added to himself.

"Please do not take this the wrong way, but you are not very good at the fighting arts from what your instructors tell me."

Thom should have been concerned that Roger was asking around about him, but the duke had such an easy manner, leaned back in his chair, idly twisting his rod. All the page could manage was a self-deprecating smile.

"No sir, I'm not." That part of his studies, he was not faking.

"Why not study to be a mage instead? No ambitions for magical greatness?"

"It's my father, Duke Roger."

"Ah, the curse of the firstborn son." A dazzling smile said he understood, which was ironic because the duke was a firstborn son and a mage, but Thom didn't feel put off by the disparity. "Tradition can be cumbersome."

"I don't think that is it so much: my father is more scholar than he was ever knight, but my mother died giving birth to me and my twin, and he blames their Gift for not saving her. Maude taught us without his knowledge." It was more than he had told anyone, but it felt good to get these things off his chest. A weight he didn't even know existed seemed to lift off him with every word.

"So, you would have studied sorcery, if given the chance?"

Thom gave the man a look that clearly said it was a dumb question to ask, drawing a laugh from the noble.

"Yes, I believe we are kindred spirits there." When Roger looked at a page of notes in thought, he frowned before looking back up at the page. "I think you might have done well enough training to be a mage. You are behind where I might have guessed in your studies, but the Mithran priests here seem happy enough with your progress."

For just a moment, Thom's smirk slipped out.

"Is something funny about that?"

"Not funny..." His voice didn't sound as convincing as he was trying for.

"You are holding back on them, aren't you?"

Thom's purple eyes snapped up to meet Roger's deep blue. How could he know that?

"I suspected as much. Keeping a power like yours tame requires either a physical exertion of will or a great amount of intellect. You don't strike me as one to depend on physicality, so you must be very smart."

The rumors were true; this man was perceptive as well as powerful. Again, Thom should have been worried, but he found himself impressed instead. No one had ever seen through his act before.

"The part I do not understand is why?"

Thom wiggled in his seat, struggling with the words. He had already told this man more than he ever ought to, but Roger looked like he understood the young page. No one had ever really been able to before, even Alanna could not always. In the end, the aspiring sorcerer decided the duke already guessed what he was doing, the motivation behind it could do no more harm.

"If I play dumb, the priests are pleased with any progress. It allows me to stay far ahead of the class through self-study and lessens the work they expect of me. It also means the other boys don't see me as a threat or, worse yet, come to ask me for help."

Duke Roger chuckled again, and Thom let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He was amused, not angry. "That was very smart of you. Yes, I think we are very much alike, indeed."

Thom smiled in return. How had he ever been worried about how the older man would view him? In some ways, Roger was more akin to him than his twin.

"And your sister? Is she like you as well?"

"Alanna?" Thom said the name through a laugh of his own. His twin was never anything close to calculating. "Gods, no. We may look identical, but that is where the similarities end."

"Really? How so?" The duke leaned in with genuine interest. Everyone liked Alanna more...

"She isn't _dumb_ ," he started, as if the statement might be a little generous, "but she is terribly naive and hates magic, even if she has it. She'd rather be here swinging a stick at someone."

Alanna's motivations and aspirations were as incomprehensible to him as his were to her. They had just realized long ago that didn't really matter; they loved each other in spite of their differences.

"You do rather sound like opposites; I can't imagine hating your Gift." The duke shook his head at Thom's sister's folly, a sentiment the redhead readily understood.

"Well Thom, thank you for being so open with me. I think I am going to be very glad to have met you." A smile spread easily across Roger's face. "And, I think, you will learn much from me."

Thom left the duke's study looking happier than he had since arriving at the palace. Things were looking up.

* * *

 _A/N: I feel like the Roger/Thom relationship is often glazed over in Convent fics, and it is one of the things that intrigues me the most (This is NOT a slash fic. If you got excited just now, I don't want you to read on hoping for that). If you all disagree with how this goes or want to know more on my rationale, feel free to bring it up in a review I LOVE talking about it._

 _Side Note: 'Lady Mage' was one of the many titles I considered, but it reminded me too much of Kel's series for an Alanna fic title._


	12. The Inbetween

_A/N: Here are two important tidbits that needed to be shown, but I will leave it up to your imaginations to fill in the drabble. This chapter is tiny, but I wanted you all to know I am back, and we are getting to the good stuff!_

Thom slouched in the chair, feet stretched before him during Duke Roger's class. They had been rehashing the theory behind this particular spell all week, and it was one the young mage had known before he arrived in Corus.

"Child's play…" He whispered to himself as one of the other pages finally got to attempt the spell.

Prince Jonathan, who had started sitting next to Thom in class, spared a smile for the redhead. He felt just as encumbered by his cousin's glacial pace. The heir to the throne was by no means as advanced as Thom, but the younger boy figured Jonathan was a distant second to him.

"That is all for today boys. Make sure you read the chapter on shields before our next class where we will begin to discuss the different types."

Thom's eyes rolled as he gathered up his books. Any hopes he had cherished of using Duke Roger's knowledge to become a great mage had quickly been dashed by his curriculum. It had been almost two months now, and the young man would have been hard pressed to think of anything new he had learned.

"Thom, if you would." The duke motioned for the young man to hang back, and reluctantly, he obeyed.

"I can see you are getting frustrated with the speed of the class."

Thom wanted to laugh, but he gave the gentleman a blank stare instead. "Sir?"

"No, don't do that." Roger smiled knowingly down at him. "Let's be honest with each other, one mage to another."

"Well, if we are being honest, I could do most of this in my sleep."

The tall man chuckled at the young page. "I do not doubt you could. And were all my students like you, it would be a formidable class indeed. Unfortunately, most of these lads can barely grab hold of the small Gift they possess. I wish I could teach in a manner that would best suit you, but my uncle would hardly approve of tailoring a class to a single student, even one as exceptional as you."

It made sense, of course, but it wasn't what Thom wanted to hear.

"If only the king took this more seriously." Roger heaved a sigh over his relation, catching Thom's confused look. "A king who clings so tightly to peace can never see the benefit of fully equipping his best weapons."

"I think that is silly. There can never truly be peace among nations. He may enjoy being the Peacemaker, but most others in power only seek to increase their own."

The older mage shrugged. "He has a good heart…"

Thom wondered if that really made for a good king. Roger's comment didn't seem like much of a stamp of approval. When the redhead looked up again, Roger was giving him that appraising look again.

"If you want…" His blue eyes closed in regret when he stopped himself. "No, I'm sure you wouldn't have the time."

"What?" Thom leaned in, interest piqued.

"I thought maybe, if you could find a little time after your classes, I could tutor you privately."

"Really?!" The young page could not keep the excitement out of his voice.

"I know you are busy with your studies, but it would be a shame to let a Gift like yours go to waste."

"Yes, of course!"

Libraries were amazing things. Thom had always thought so, but Alanna had only recently learned to love them. It turned out that the collections of books included not only knowledge on history and mathematics but also practical things like fencing! After all, the library was intended for young noble boys as well as the ladies-in-training. She had already learned new forms and exercises from the books; between those and the advice Prince Jonathan gave in his infrequent letters (which still dwarfed Thom's in both frequency and length), she felt almost competent with a sword. It was a good thing too; her nightly practice was the only thing keeping her sane, now that Cyth had moved to different classes.

Her marks and manners had improved by leaps and bounds. She quickly learned that most of the Daughters had it out for her since she absconded from the convent. In order to finish out her year, she rose to the status of star pupil... and hated every minute of it. But she staunchly refused to give them so much as an un-dotted 'i' to complain about.

Every curtsy was perfect, and she went through every sword exercise she could with a book on top of her head to correct her posture. As she parried invisible foes, she properly greeted a Lord, a Duke, and a Baron while politely refusing gifts from all three. Of course, if those same nobles knew she imagined them on the business end of her sword, they probably would not have offered so much as a flower.

Some of her instructors actually believed she had changed her mind about becoming a lady, but then she was very careful to hide the gashes in her linens. On her first allowed outing, she even spent her entire allowance on a good pair of gloves to cut down on calluses. Now, her time served was ending, and she could move on to her year with the Mithran priests.

It was to that end that she once again went to visit the place she feared even more than the Black God's Realm she had once visited, at least he was merciful.

"Lady Alanna…"

The young redhead gave the First Daughter a curtsy just deep enough for a priestess of her status and not a bit lower. It stood to reason that Satinder would have been pleased with her troublesome pupil's turnaround, but if anything, it rankled the old woman more. Alanna's continued presence in her convent became a personal affront that had deepened the wrinkles on the Daughter's face.

"First Daughter…" Alanna smiled beatifically. The thought that this might be their last ever meeting lending lightness to her heart.

The older woman's responding smile of triumph almost made halt Alanna as she came towards her usual seat. _No_ , she told the sudden fear that gripped her heart, _we are both just glad not to prolong our acquaintanceship_. Alanna spread her skirts out gracefully before she sat, only a tightening in her eyes betraying her anxiety.

"Your time as a lady in this convent is almost over..." Satinder held Alanna's gaze, the silence a resounding 'however' hanging in the air between them.

"So it is, First Daughter. Is that why you called for me?"

"Yes and no." The woman was enigmatic and infuriating. "Queen Lianne and I have been corresponding about your… unique situation."

This did not bode well, but Alanna listened with hands clasped in her lap and back perfectly straight. "If you manage to make it through your first year of training in magecraft, you will be dealing with all manner of people, including the upper echelon of our society. Your studies here may have improved, but you are by no means ready to be presented at court."

"Am I no longer to train as a healer? Her Royal Majesty was part of the planning with Duke Baird." It was a real struggle to keep the panic from her voice, but she would not give the woman the satisfaction.

"Duke Baird still believes you should come apprentice under him, but he has agreed to your continued tutelage while still in the City of the Gods and while at court. So, your evening meals will not be taken with the other mages in training but here."

"With the other ladies?" Alanna asked the hopeful question.

"Of course not, the queen wants to ensure you know how to treat dignitaries, not that you can sup with friends. No, you will dine with myself and other teachers or visitors when your lessons call for it. That will not be a problem, will it?" It was Satinder's turn to sound hopeful.

"Of course not. If that is what Her Royal Majesty thinks is best, then that is what we will do." Honestly, Alanna was not quite sure why the queen she had met so briefly even cared to remember her, but it didn't change the fact that this was now something she had to do.

"Wonderful." It was hard to tell if the First Daughter was pleased she would get to inflict unknown tortures on the young girl or upset that it had not dissuaded Alanna from her path.

Either way, the redhead was sure of two things. It was going to be a long year, and a pillow would meet an early end tonight on the blade of her sword.

 _A/N: And it will be for Alanna, but for my readers, Alanna will be returning to Corus in the next chapter. I just wanted to give you all an idea of the interesting training that our young twins will be having during our time lapse._


End file.
